The Jedi of Little Whinging
by Asviloka
Summary: Harry Potter was not killed in Godric's Hollow, his spirit sent to a distant galaxy where he lived a lifetime training as the Jedi Hari. Now, his life there ended, the rituals and charms protecting him called his soul back to its original place: a young magician ready to start his training anew, in a world where the Force lies dormant and darkness is called by another name.
1. Arrival

Hari stumbled and fell to the ground, disoriented at the sudden shift of perspectives. One minute he'd been meditating deeply, the next. . . hurtling through hyperspace, but differently, twisting and tight, as though he were in no containing ship. . . and then here, small, a child again.

Memories not his own warred with his core self, centuries of learning the higher mysteries vanished in an instant as he flailed and struggled mentally to center himself. Sounds and chaos around him were dismissed, he closed his eyes and reached for the Force.

It flooded through him in an instant, pressing in with a strength he'd have called desperation had the Force not been an impersonal energy field. He gasped, stood up abruptly, stared around at the world gone still and quiet.

The blanket of power was so heavy, so vast. Unlike on Coruscant, where it had been constantly flowing and rippling around everything and through everyone, here it lay quiet. The only ripples he sensed were those caused by his own actions. The world was flooded with Force energy, full to capacity and beyond, compressed power weighted down on top of itself again and again.

Hari inhaled sharply as he noticed something else. None of the people, none of the animals, nothing he could sense held any connection to the Force at all. The power lay stagnant, untouched, unconnected.

He pulled it in, comforted by its response, the warm strength that suffused him with hardly a touch.

Finally, he turned to survey the world he'd found himself in so unexpectedly. The air was light, smelled empty. The people, hardly moving with the intensity of his Force speed, were dressed unfamiliarly.

It was a public venue of some manner, people walking about in wide open paths between displays of exotic animals. The display directly beside Hari also contained a human child. He frowned. Slavery, despite being outlawed in Republic systems, was something the Jedi were not unfamiliar with. However, he had rarely seen such a public demonstration.

Mentally lowering his standards, he took several steps and pushed the Force away. It was hard, rather than simply releasing a power he had to call to him, here the power only waited to flood into him and didn't want to be sent away.

Time resumed its normal flow, and a wall of sound smashed into Hari. Screams, flailing, banging, running footsteps.

The boy in the glass cage was slamming his hands against the front of it, while two adults ineffectively did the same from the outside.

The running and screaming seemed mostly caused by the large snake playfully hissing at the ankles of the passersby. It noticed Hari watching, nodded its head.

"Brazil, here I come. Thanksss, amigo," it hissed.

"You're welcome," Hari replied, not sure what he'd been thanked for, but reassessing his understanding of this planet yet again. Most sentient species he knew of were larger, he only knew of a handful as small as snakes, and he wasn't even sure how he spoke the creature's language. A gift of being somehow in the body of a native, he supposed.

He wanted to stand, realized he was already at his full height. It would take some getting used to, being the height of a Lannik. He'd never been _tall_ , but didn't recall being so short ever in his life. He must have, he was a child once, but his memories of the period were blurred with time. Training as a Jedi was a lifelong journey, and his first steps were long forgotten.

"Harry!"

The voice was furious, that of the large red-faced man who'd been standing by the glass.

Hari turned at the sound of his name, then was surprised to find that he was indeed the one being addressed.

"Yes?" he asked, perplexed.

"What have you done?"

"Err," Hari found himself unable to reply. He didn't know what had been going on prior to his abrupt arrival, and he didn't know anything about his native host.

 _Anyone in here?_ he asked mentally, trying to connect with whoever's mind he'd accidentally overwritten.

He instinctively drew on the Force, only to have it come crashing through him like he'd opened a floodgate. That was going to take some getting used to.

There was no response, just a quiet hissing that he couldn't interpret. He supposed whatever had drawn him here or hurled him across space (and perhaps time as well; it hadn't felt like normal travel at all) might not have made concessions for whoever's body he'd ended up in.

It saddened him to think that he had, however inadvertently, destroyed the life of another. But there was nothing he could do to change that now.

His attention was abruptly returned to the present as a huge fist seized his collar. "You think that's clever, do you? Making Dudley fall in there like that? How dare you!"

Hari raised a hand, sent Force energy flowing out just slightly, enough to move the irate man a few inches away from him. The big fellow staggered under the push, flew backward several paces and slammed into the nearest glass-sided cage.

Hari was astonished, even the lightest application of Force here was amplified unnaturally strongly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push so hard," he said, hurrying toward the man, gathering healing focus. "Are you injured?"

The man shoved him away, glaring like he thought Hari had lost his mind.

"Keep your freakishness to yourself, idiot boy!" a tall woman hissed furiously, one hand on her skinny hip as she glared at him. "How dare you make a scene and ruin poor Dudley's birthday?"

She clutched the damp fat child to her side, and Hari assumed this must be Dudley.

He frowned, completely lost. He stood back from the man, breathed slowly and calmly, trying to assess the situation. "It's alright, I've trained as a Jedi. I can help."

They stared at him like he'd completely lost his mind. Hari realized that they may never have heard of the Jedi Order, considering the state the Force was in on this world.

"That's it," the red-faced man blurted. "We're going home, and _you_ are not leaving your cupboard for a month, do you hear me boy?"

Home? _Cupboard?_

"I'm sorry, but whoever you think I am is no longer present," he said. "I am Hari, of the Jedi Order. I apologize for the loss of your. . . whoever I used to be, but I should be going. Can you direct me to the nearest spaceport?"

A skinny lad lounging nearby laughed uproariously, slapping his hand on his knees.

"Dud, I think your cousin's finally lost it!" he exclaimed through his mirth. "Spaceport?"

"Or whatever other method you use for travel between planets, of course," Hari said, a sinking feeling stealing over him. "You. . . do have contact with other worlds, certainly?"

"Silence!" roared the red-faced man. "Keep your idiot babbling to yourself."

He grabbed the back of Hari's shirt and moved them hastily down the walk toward a collection of oddly-designed speeders parked in neat rows.

Hari didn't want to risk the Force flaring out of control and hurting anyone, so he went along with the rough escort without complaint. He didn't have anywhere to _go_ , really, and he did owe this family some explanation for having taken over their. . . nephew, was it?

He waited until they were seated in the back of the speeder, which turned out to actually be a wheeled ground-car, then turned to the large boy who was his host's cousin.

"Do you at least get holonet?" he whispered.

The boy frowned at him, gave him a rough shove. "Stay away from me!" he bellowed, which set off his mother, which set off his father, which led to a very loud trip.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _The first few chapters may seem a bit hasty, but this story has no need to linger at Privet Drive and the sooner we get to Hogwarts the sooner I can start playing around with the Force/Magic dichotomy and start getting Hari involved in actual events. Muahahahahaha.  
_

 _This is a standalone book, but set in the same universe and chronologically after the as-yet unwritten Harry Potter of the Jedi Order. As both parts of the crossover project are meant to be distinct and independent of the other, I'm not too concerned with writing out of order. As to the explanation of why Harry is suddenly a Jedi now, basically during the time period between Voldemort trying to kill him and this scene, his soul was in the Star Wars galaxy (albeit for many decades instead of ten years) and only snapped back into his original body upon his death there._


	2. Purpose

It didn't take long for Hari to discover that the world on which he was marooned did not have any communication with the greater galaxy. He didn't recognize any of the stars visible in the sky. There was no holonet, no starships or spaceports, and faster than light travel of any sort was considered a fictional construction of 'television' shows with no grounding in science.

In short, he was completely stranded on one tiny and underdeveloped world, where no one had even heard of the Force and the title Jedi was utterly meaningless.

He discovered that his host had been relegated to an exceptionally small sleeping space, more cramped than the smallest cargo freighter's quarters, and that this was not the normal state of affairs for the planet. He gradually came to understand that his position in the family was more or less that of a droid; cook, clean, and stay out of sight and notice.

Hari was no stranger to menial tasks, as Jedi did much of their own cooking and cleaning. He was utterly unfamiliar with the ingredients and recipes provided, however, and the cooking implements were so far from galactic standard that he was lost within minutes.

Any attempt at explaining himself was shouted down, and any of his suggestions that the adults sit down calmly and discuss the new situation with him were likewise scoffed at.

He diplomatically went along with this state of affairs, used the daily routine of his duties to accustom himself to the planet and its inhabitants.

Known locally as 'Earth', the world was inhabited and ruled by a completely human population. His inquiries into the rights and customs of the snake populace were met with such derision that it became clear they were either completely subjugated or, more likely, not known to be sentient.

Which raised interesting questions of its own. Such as how Hari could speak their language if none of his relatives - or from the sound of it no one else on the _planet_ \- could.

He quietly went about his daily duties with calm and acceptance, his efficiency increasing as he grew familiar with the foreign appliances and their proper applications.

In his solitude and meditation, he practiced connecting with the Force without allowing it to completely flood through him. Every time he opened himself to it even the slightest bit, the intense pressure threatened to overwhelm him completely. Only his serenity and decades of training allowed him to keep its power under control, and even then the effort of pushing it away was immense.

He practiced levitating the small items around the house when the family wasn't watching, feeling like a youngling at his most basic lessons, but the practice helped. The Force slowly began to swirl around him, rippling out from him and feeling marginally less lifeless.

But he still had to reach with the faintest touch or the power would burst out in an over-eager flare that tended to end destructively. Even after weeks spent in Little Whinging, he'd made no progress in preventing the Force from crashing through him like a tidal wave the moment he opened his mind to it.

Worse, it didn't seem to provide the usual sense of direction it had back in his home galaxy. Instead it felt demanding, a power desperate to be utilized, but unfocused and purposeless. _Do something!_ it urged, but never showed even a glimpse of _what_.

Hari had once heard theories proposed by certain ancient Jedi, claiming that the only way the Force could ever be in balance was if no one could use its power. That it would be better to have no Jedi and no Sith. Hari had formerly thought it deserved consideration as a viewpoint, but now he'd actually seen what happened when the Force was abandoned he knew it was incorrect.

He could feel the truth every time he allowed this overwhelming power to flood through him. This wasn't balance, this was stagnation. The Force was _meant_ to bind the galaxy together, to enrich life and help people further their goals, not lay dormant and useless.

Life back home had been a constant chain of conflict, one war after another, petty tyrants and doomed uprisings on a thousand worlds each with its own problems and each with its own beauty.

The Jedi had discussed the prophecy, that one would come who would bring balance to the Force, and found it hard to interpret. Traditionally, it was interpreted to mean that the Dark Side would be overthrown, the Sith destroyed, and peace restored to the galaxy.

Hari had never fully agreed with that interpretation. For one thing, the Force was over and beyond the actions of any number of Jedi or Sith. If you killed every Sith in the whole galaxy, new Force-sensitive children would be born, discover an affinity for the Dark Side, and the cycle would begin again.

Only now that he was away did he begin to think that their galaxy was _already_ in balance, that it was the _cycle_ of light and dark - clashing against each other, winning and losing and being reborn, again and again unending - that was the true balance the Force sought.

He'd been a master of the Force, knew more Sith teachings than most Jedi, and he couldn't deny that even those ancient enemies had some valid points. Striving, struggling against conflict, fighting to improve yourself. Sure they tended to carry the application to a narcissistic extreme, but all evidence seemed to indicate that conflict and not stagnation would improve the galaxy.

There had always been rumors that Hari was the Chosen One. That he was the fulfillment of the ancient prophecy. The proponents of this theory put forward all sorts of 'proof' that he was special. There were rumors that he'd never had a father and his mother had died giving birth, something that couldn't be satisfactorily disproven. The records of his birth were mired in controversy, untraceable to any satisfactory extent and unclear in his true origins.

His midichlorien count was astonishingly high, something that didn't _always_ correlate to great strength with the Force but in this case it had. His training wasn't always clear and smooth; he'd learned no faster than the best students of the Jedi Order, but he had learned well.

And now, finally, after a long, long lifetime spent guiding and studying and seeking, here he was. Beginning over, vast portions of his past wiped away in a moment, but enough remaining that he could begin to understand his true purpose here.

This planet needed the Force, and it needed it very badly.


	3. Relations

Being in school was extremely helpful. It allowed Hari a decent overview of the expectations of Earth, began filling in the gaps in his understanding. He put particular focus on history, asking his teacher for additional resources to study on his own time. He found that the world was split into hundreds of smaller groups, most in alliances of various types, some at war, some uneasy neighbors.

He couldn't remember ever encountering a world with quite so many distinct cultures and heavily divided boundaries, apart from Coruscant perhaps, but it did reinforce the fact that this little world was trapped without access to the rest of the galaxy.

So many people, crushed up against their neighbors with no other planets to flee to where they could be welcomed. Fight for your place here, or be shunted aside. It was sad to see how deeply the desperation of being trapped had permeated through society, but also heartening to see that even with so many cultures represented on a single world, they'd managed to maintain peace to the extent they had. Hari would have expected far more war and destruction.

Most likely it was not as bright as the school texts painted it, with injustice and wrongs merely hiding below the surfaces of society, but that wasn't something Hari could change at present even if he did know about it in perfect detail.

Harry seemed to be a pariah at school, mostly due to the attentions of Dudley and his gang. Hari kept them at bay with carefully controlled Force pushes if they tried to assault his person, and otherwise ignored their insults and mockery as he devoted himself to study.

Earth was fascinating, but there were so many points in history where a handful of Jedi could have maintained the peace that was so constantly broken by war.

Hari began to see that there was more to his arrival here than chance. The Force was strong here, so overpoweringly strong. It was waiting, searching for someone to bring the planet into balance.

It had called to him, through poor young Harry Potter. It had drawn him here for something more than simply acting as a droid for his relatives.

He would learn of this world. Ten years was not so long, he could maintain appearances. Act as a proper youngling would in this world, remain with his family that long. But then he would find a way to bring balance to this chaotic world, as the Force clearly wished him to.

He was a bit disappointed when the school year ended so shortly after his arrival, but with assurances that he'd be going to a new school in only a few months he was content to wait.

* * *

Hari's 'family' treated him with a combination of fear, disgust, and arrogant loathing that he found quite inexplicable. And still they refused to give him the chance to speak with them. He bided his time, sure that eventually they would stop acting so unreasonable if he maintained his calm and gave them space, though they seemed to have a real gift for stubbornness.

Though he at first had thought their fear a result of his taking over their nephew's body, Hari soon realized that there was something more, an undercurrent of distrust that had been present long before his own arrival on this planet.

It was only when the letters began arriving that he glimpsed the true depth of it.

Uncle Vernon began acting more oddly. He barred up every entry to the house, shredded and burned every letter, and only occasionally did Hari catch glimpse of the emerald ink addressed to Mr. H. Potter, cupboard-under-the-stairs.

His surname must be Potter, then, not Dursley. He hadn't known; they only ever called him Harry or _boy_.

Dudley's first several attempts at pushing or bullying Hari had been ignored or gently rebuffed, and the bigger boy had grown confused and the incidents became more infrequent. It seemed that he'd been pretty much in control of Harry's life for so long that he kept assuming Hari would behave certain ways. It always seemed to surprise him when he was only met with serenity.

This, more than anything else, seemed to unsettle his relatives. It was one thing for him to be spouting madness about 'Jedi', another entirely to act so unlike the boy they knew.

But _still_ they refused to sit down and talk to him about it. Instead they gave him more tasks to occupy his days and spent as little time as possible in his presence. They talked about him behind closed doors, whispering with fear in their voices.

And the letters kept coming. They came down the chimney, flying into the room by the hundreds. They squeezed out of the showerhead, came up from the sink drain. They plastered the outside of the house, which sent Aunt Petunia into a frenzy of removing them in case anyone saw.

Hari didn't know how to react to this strange obsession someone had with him, or the boy who he'd overwritten at least, and thus did nothing to encourage or discourage the letters. Not that he'd have known what to do in either event anyway. Dudley seemed livid that his parents wouldn't let _him_ read them.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asked Aunt Petunia one day, as she shredded letters in her food processor with single-minded determination.

"Quiet, boy," she snapped. "This is none of your business."

"If you want me to leave, I can—"

She spun on him, one skinny hand on her hip, her eyebrows stern. "You will _not_ be going _anywhere_. We agreed to take you in, and that means you're staying here where it's safe."

"Safe from what?" Hari asked. "I've noticed no significant threats. And I'm not—"

But Aunt Petunia simply shook her head and spun back to her work, ignoring his attempts to restart the conversation.

* * *

 _Slight edit 2019-03-03: fixed typo_


	4. Invitation

The letters hadn't stopped arriving on the day Hari was presented with a pair of tattered right-hand gloves and informed that he was eleven. He added the gloves to the collection that faint memory-impressions told him were his past birthday presents - various useless items which were apparently given for sentimental reasons to inhabitants of Earth in celebration of their existence having continued.

He found it interesting that his relatives saw fit to celebrate his existence _this_ particular day, when they had seemed so inclined to ignore or belittle him the rest of the time, but Earth custom apparently overrode personal preferences.

A single letter fluttered off the ceiling fan that morning, though no conceivable reason would make it arrive there. Uncle Vernon grabbed it and glared at Hari and Dudley as though expecting them to try snatching it away and moved toward the fire.

"If someone is this insistent on getting in contact with me," Hari said quietly, "perhaps it would be easier to allow it?"

"No lip, boy," Uncle Vernon said, tossing the envelope toward the flames.

But Hari instinctively pulled it toward himself with a quick tug on the Force, the envelope shooting away from the flames and slamming into Hari's outstretched hand with enough force to topple him backwards off his chair.

The rest of the world slowed around him as he reached for the Force to speed his movements. He opened the letter, read it quickly, then returned it to its envelope and pushed it back toward the fire as he released the Force speed.

"What was that?!" Aunt Petunia demanded, as Hari disentangled himself from the chair and set it upright again.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia," he replied mildly. "I fell over."

Neither Uncle Vernon or Dudley seemed to have noticed the blur that Hari would have created while sped up, but his aunt watched him suspiciously for several minutes as he cleaned up the breakfast things.

"Much more of this nonsense and we'll have no choice but to run for it," Vernon said quietly to his wife, standing just outside of the kitchen. Hari could hear them, but only by trying.

"We _can't_ , Vernon," Petunia said, sounding afraid. "We have to keep him _here_ , anywhere we went the _others_ could find us and. . ." her voice fell lower, below overhearing.

"They're interfering!" Vernon exclaimed after his wife finished her hushed whisper. "We have our own lives to live without their ruddy _letters_ getting in our way!"

The livingroom clock chimed quarter-of, and Petunia gasped. "Go, you'll be late to work." Vernon grabbed his coat and hat and rushed out the door.

Hari returned to drying and putting away the last of the breakfast dishes and thought about what he'd read and what this could mean. He'd seen people on many worlds call what the Jedi could do 'magic'. Was it possible there were others on this world who could touch the Force? He'd not felt their ripples, but Earth wasn't a particularly small planet.

He didn't notice Aunt Petunia come to stand nearby until he finished and turned to go, startled despite his training. He was still having a hard time getting used to not sensing people _at all._ The Force didn't move through them, or around them, it just was _there_. Pressing on Hari, flowing through and rippling around him, but no one else.

"You stole the letter, didn't you?" Aunt Petunia demanded. "I saw something happen, your. . . freakishness." She held out her hand. "Give it here."

"I didn't keep it," Hari replied. "I read it, and burned it."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, but he merely returned her gaze with calm patience.

"You _are_ different," she hissed. "Ever since Dudders' birthday, you've been. . . different."

"I have tried to tell you several times, your Harry is gone. I am Hari, of the Jedi Order, and though I don't know how I came to reside in your nephew's body, I will do my best to maintain his position as your family member."

Aunt Petunia shook her head insistently. "They would know, if you were different. The letters are always, _always_ , addressed correctly. No matter where you go or how you try to hide."

"They, meaning people with magic?" Hari asked.

Aunt Petunia glared for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "My sister, Lily. Your. . . _Harry's_ mother. She was a witch."

"Yet you've tried to conceal this from the world. Magic is not something commonly accepted on Earth?"

Aunt Petunia shook her head. "It's secret, hidden. Shameful and _dangerous_."

Hari nodded. He'd encountered plenty of cultures that believed so. He couldn't bring to mind any specific examples, enough of his lifetime of memory had faded that he now had more a general idea of things than exact details. But he knew he'd encountered similar problems with the families of young Force-sensitives many times in the past.

"What _happened_ to you?" Aunt Petunia asked even more quietly, as though worried they'd be overheard. "This isn't like you."

"My mind is no longer that of the Harry you knew," Hari repeated. "And I don't know what happened to bring it about. I died on the planet Coruscant, then I hurtled through hyperspace or _something_ and arrived here. On Dudley's birthday, in your nephew's body."

Aunt Petunia nodded slowly. "We swore when we took you in. . . _Harry_ in, that we'd stamp out the dangerous nonsense he'd been born to. But it keeps getting stronger, and _they_ want you so badly. I'm afraid Vernon will do something foolish if it carries on like this. Perhaps. . . perhaps you should—"

SMASH

The door _slammed_ open with enough force to fracture the wall, and a huge man stooped down to look in. "Harry? You in here?"

The man could almost pass for a wookiee with his long hair and wild beard, the remainder of his body hidden beneath a massive overcoat. He smiled when he saw Hari, and beckoned to him.

"You finally read your letter, didn't yeh?" he asked.

Hari nodded.

"Good, good. I had a hard time figurin' how to get 'em to yeh, it seems. But, o' course, my magic in't what it used teh be. I'm Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, and I've been sent teh get you your shoppin' done. Ready to go?"

Hari just stood, completely at a loss for words.

"You're not taking him anywhere," Aunt Petunia said bravely, her voice trembling a little. "He's going to grow up _normal_ , as much as we can manage. Just leave us be, and we'll not cause you any trouble."

Hagrid laughed. "As if muggles like you _could_ cause us trouble."

"Why do you want me to go to Hogwarts?" Hari asked.

Hagrid blinked and stopped abruptly. "Why? Harry, that's as silly a question as I ever 'eard. Why _wouldn't_ we want you to come to Hogwarts? It's yer birthright as a wizard. Yer parents were at 'ogwarts, all the family friends, everyone is waitin' teh see yeh. Yeh've been away since the end of the war, 'arry, all they know is that yeh were somewhere safe. But 'ogwarts is even safer, as yeh'll be under the greatest 'eadmaster we've ever had. Albus Dumbledore can protect yeh now."

"Protect me from what, exactly?" Hari asked. There were no darkside Force-users here, he'd encountered enough of them in his past life to detect their echoes from at least that far. And he couldn't imagine any other threat to a Jedi Master on a little low-tech planet like this.

"You-know-who had plenty of followers," Hagrid replied in a slightly hushed voice. "And not all of 'em were rounded up after. That's why you had to stay where no one 'd think to look for yeh. You saw Dumbledore's letter, o' course?"

Hari shrugged. It was possible 'Harry' had seen the letter, though he suspected it had been destroyed. Like so many copies of the school acceptance letter.

Hagrid frowned. "Yeh don't seem to be takin' this very seriously, 'arry."

"I apologize," Hari said, with a slow nod of acknowledgment. "I am unfamiliar with magic and its customs."

Hagrid laughed, his great booming laugh, and Aunt Petunia looked around as though suddenly realizing they had a large stranger standing on their front step.

"Come in, please," she said, though the words sounded strained. "Let's not keep the door open all morning."

Hagrid squeezed through, nearly bumping his head against the ceiling as he stood straight again, and Aunt Petunia swiftly shut the door behind him.

"Yer definitely Lily's son," Hagrid said, wiping away a tear as he smiled broadly at Hari. "If I hadn't known it before, I wouldn't have cause to doubt now."

"Why?" Hari asked.

"Yeh sound just like 'er. She could always talk like the best of 'em, y'know? Even as a first year she sounded like she'd swallowed the 'ole library."

Hari frowned, just the slightest bit, but didn't interrupt.

"I'm glad to see you were well cared for, 'arry. There were some people who worried about sending you off and leaving you alone for so long with muggles, me among them, but you seem to have turned out just fine."

"I'm not sure. . ." Hari began, but thought better of it almost at once. "I just don't know much about magic." he finished. "I would be happy to hear whatever you can tell me, so I can make an informed decision."

"He's not going," Aunt Petunia said, her voice quavering. "Please, just leave him be."

"Not going?" Hagrid sounded incredulous and shocked. "Yeh can't be serious."

Aunt Petunia raised her chin. "Just tell your boss that we want nothing to do with _your_ kind, and neither does Harry."

Hari turned to her directly, cleared his throat to politely catch her attention. "Are you certain," he asked quietly, "that you aren't just insisting on your pre-determined course without giving the matter appropriate thought? Do you _really_ want me to stay with you? I have seen no evidence to support this, your nephew was never _wanted_ here. Why not let me go off and learn about their world?"

If there were anyplace on Earth other Force-sensitives would end up, this Hogwarts seemed a likely candidate.

"It was meddling with their lot that got my sister killed!" Petunia hissed back. "Do you _want_ to die?"

"I won't be in any danger," Hari said with calm certainty. "I was a Jedi Master, and though the Force here is strange and unfamiliar I can still protect myself well enough."

Aunt Petunia looked torn, fear and determination and indifference warring for dominance over her expression.

"This is what _I_ want," Hari said. "To learn about others like me. If you insist on my remaining, I will stay until I'm an adult and _then_ go search out more information on my own. I am patient."

"Yeh can't do that, 'arry!" Hagrid sounded horrified. "The protection here will only last until yeh come of age, and if yeh were untrained yeh'd be a easy target for the Death Eaters."

"As my guardian, it is your decision," Hari said to Aunt Petunia. "But please take the whole situation into account. I am no longer your nephew, and I will not be dissuaded from my course. Either I go now, or I go once emancipated."

She met his determined gaze, glanced away. "Alright," she whispered. "Alright, you can go."

Hari turned back to the huge man standing just inside the door and nodded to him in polite acceptance. "Then, yes, I would be pleased to attend Hogwarts this September."


	5. Connection

Diagon Alley was different enough from the rest of what Hari had seen so far of Earth as to very nearly constitute another world in itself. It reminded him fondly of places he'd visited in his past life and he quite enjoyed the calmer atmosphere it exuded. While London itself reminded him of certain places on Coruscant, this was more like a less-developed society with greater emphasis on individuals.

That may be too much to read from a simple shopping trip, but Hari didn't think he was mistaken. His instincts were usually quite good.

He was disappointed to find that, even among other witches and wizards, the Force lay still and stagnant. Though they performed Jedi-like feats, they did so with some other ambient power. His own actions were the only ones echoing back.

The shopping trip was largely noteworthy only in its brevity. After being escorted to a vault in a bank, full of Earth currency (or, rather, Earth/Magic currency, as they and 'Muggles' had separate economies,) which was his by inheritance, they purchased various items in various styles from various shops following the list prescribed.

The only places of note were the bookstore, where Hari insisted upon buying several books of history and considerably more than the standard syllabus for magic itself, and the wand shop, where Hari felt an odd kinship toward a certain holly wand with phoenix feather core despite it causing an odd sort of resonance when he touched it.

Hagrid took both Hari's occasional questions and his general lack of curiosity in stride without commenting, explaining what had been asked about with only the occasional aside about how hard it must have been growing up with muggles while knowing there was so much more to the world.

The only disagreement came when Hagrid tried to convince Hari that he wanted an owl, while Hari insisted that he wanted the blue-eyed gold and white kitten that looked at him with more intelligence than the other pets. He informed it that its (his) name was now Toretin Severill the Third, but it would answer mostly to Sev. Hagrid looked for a moment as though he wanted to say something, but ultimately choked it down. The cat looked up at Hari without acknowledging the assignment of his new name, and Hari began petting him.

Toretin Sev was seven months old, still young and not yet fully grown, but old enough to have an air of understanding and intellect about him. Hari listened intently to the instructions for his care, and had soon purchased the necessary accompaniments to a cat as well as a moderate-sized guidebook; 'Essential household spells for pet-owners: Feline edition, by Meritus Shatterwall'.

Hagrid warned him against practicing at home, as any spell other than 'lumos' variants would register as unauthorized underage magic when not done at Hogwarts or in company of supervising magical adults, which Hari promised he would respect.

Jedi ought always to adhere to the laws and customs of whatever world or culture they're visiting unless in direst need - though some of his fellow Jedi, their names and faces now forgotten, had taken the matter a bit too lightly. Hari had always believed in showing the deepest possible respect for the worlds they visited and the people they helped.

Hagrid returned Hari to Privet Drive with everything neatly packed in his new monogrammed trunk, his wand tucked safely in a pocket of his carefully folded school robes. Hagrid handed him his ticket for the train which would depart King's Cross Station on September first, gave the Dursleys another intimidating look to be sure they'd cooperate, and departed.

* * *

Aunt Petunia didn't think much of Toretin Sev, who returned the attitude with arrogant contempt. The cat promptly took to hissing whenever she entered his vicinity.

"Keep that beast well contained," she ordered Hari after a few days of dealing with Sev's presence with ill grace.

Hari complied, firmly instructed Sev that he was to behave himself. He accompanied this request with the lightest brush of Force he could bring to bear, but still it pressed into the cat with enough strength that Hari worried he may have permanently altered Sev's personality.

Toretin Sev did stop hissing at Aunt Petunia, though, at least to her face. And the unintentionally strong application of Force compulsion to the cat had another side-effect that Hari hadn't anticipated. Sev began causing his own ripples in the Force. The soft, gentle, quiet ripples of life connected in an endless web, only the web contained no one but Hari and his cat. A Force bond? With a non-sentient being? Hari had never heard of such a thing, but it seemed the only explanation.

He found with some minor experimentation that he was able to give the cat mental commands from a room or so away, but any farther than that his voice would be unheard over the ambient flood of Force pressing in around them. Sev seemed uncomfortable at first, but within a week the cat seemed acclimated to his new home and his status as a Force-connected creature.

Hari spent some time trying to replicate the feat with the small wild animals that he sometimes found around the yard, but none of them responded to his attempts to control or command them, or his attempts to simply bring them into the Force. Whatever he'd done, it wasn't going to be simple to duplicate. (He carefully avoided experimenting on snakes, not wanting to infringe on their society without further information.)

August passed without major incident, his routine well maintained by now. He gently rebuffed Dudley's habitual and increasingly half-hearted attempts to intimidate him, followed the requests of his adult guardians to the best of his ability, and spent his free time reading or meditating or trying to learn more about Earth.

He looked at his Hogwarts school things, but the curriculum was nothing at all like what he'd learned as a Jedi and made almost no sense to him. His wand continued to feel oddly discordant as it resonated against his self. He didn't try casting any spells, the archaic directions unnecessary for what he could do with the Force, but there was something familiar about the stick of wood that defied explanation.

It reminded him of his first lightsaber crystal, actually. A sense of hidden purpose, an incompleteness that demanded he make it _right_. The same pulling and echoing, only the wand pushed away at the same time. It was missing something, and he wasn't sure how to complete it.

He spent much time considering how Earth could have come to be this way. The heaviness and pressure of Force that lay upon it was strange, impossible even. The Force was the energy that _connected_ life, so in a planet where life _wasn't_ connected the Force should be weaker, not stronger. He meditated, probing the energy that surrounded him, and gradually realized that it was the planet itself. Earth was strong with the Force, its grasses and trees and plants so numerous and so indomitable. Stronger than most worlds, even. But they had no thoughts, no minds to guide the energy they created and maintained, and somehow the people and animals were excluded from the web of power.

All but Hari and his cat.

And then he noticed something else. When he held his wand, the stick of wood that was more than simply wood, he sensed the faintest shadow of something else. Another force, another power that he could only barely detect. He took to meditating while holding the wand, straining to find where that other connection led.

Sev sat on his lap, purring quietly, the Force bond between them stronger by the day. And Hari strained, focused, reached out through the wand, not knowing what he was reaching toward.

And then, someone answered. Not in words, but in memory. Bright, vivid memory, of days before Hari had arrived on this world. Sometimes it was himself, the boy Harry. Sometimes it was other people in other places, their actions clear even if their intent didn't fit any context Hari could imagine. Always brief, bright flashes that didn't illuminate much, but teased and hinted at the greater world beyond Hari's own understanding.

Once, he sat meditating deeply enough that he didn't hear the door open or Dudley come in, and only came to himself as the older boy yelled and ran in obvious terror. Hari stood by the top of the stairs, his wand in his hand. Sev sat quietly licking his fluffy tail, held down by one paw.

Hari couldn't remember standing up or walking out of the room. He didn't know what he'd said to Dudley to make the older boy flee before him, or to earn him the angry reprisals his caretakers heaped upon him. He accepted his punishment with outward calm, but confusion and fear followed him as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

The more he tried to recall just what had happened, the more unclear the whole situation seemed. It felt vague.

Shadowed.

He controlled his fear, calmed his sudden uncertainty, and put his wand away. Whatever it was trying to tell him, he decided to postpone the discovery for a time. Perhaps Hogwarts school would be able to shed some light on the mystery. Perhaps not. Either way, it seemed the wisest course of action to take.

Still, the worry remained beneath his unbroken facade of peace. Something was not right, and he was growing less sure that the school of magic would have anything to offer him.


	6. Departure

Hari didn't find the trip to Hogwarts particularly interesting. He was unused to being around children in such quantities, and none of them seemed to actually be connected to the Force. He sat in a compartment on his own with the intention of being quiet and unobtrusive.

Unfortunately, that plan lasted only as long as it took for a red-haired boy to spot his forehead, and then there were people coming and staring and asking questions that made no sense whatsoever and that he had no interest in actually answering.

It was not long before someone cleared the rest away, but by then Hari had closed his eyes and was doing his _very_ best to meditate and ignore the hubbub that was his compartment.

There were people inside, people outside, pressing in and holding back by turns as though unsure how to treat him, and he got the distinct impression that Harry Potter was something very special and important. He didn't want to go into the details of how he'd inadvertently killed their hero, or whatever had happened when he arrived, and spent several minutes not replying at all to the actions of his train-mates.

The fact that they had no presence whatsoever in the Force made it easy. With his eyes closed, he could be alone. Just himself, Sev, and the babble of an active holonet connection someone had left on. Background noise.

The train moved slowly, so very slowly. It would have taken less time to circumnavigate Coruscant than it did to cross a few plains, some moors, and more hills and ravines than Hari cared to keep track of. But this wasn't Coruscant. This was someplace far less technologically advanced. Fine. It was faster than a bantha, at least, and didn't smell quite as bad. Though so many excited children didn't leave it smelling particularly pleasant either.

The sounds faded, hushed by something. Hari opened his eyes.

"Harry Potter," said a blond boy who looked quite full of himself. "So you've come."

Hari nodded once.

The boy blinked as though surprised. "Don't you know who I am?"

Hari closed his eyes and leaned back. "I don't know anyone on this train," he replied. "It's only the first day of term."

The boy laughed. "First day of term, and you don't know _anyone_? Well, lucky for you that I found you. I'm Draco Malfoy, and _I_ know everyone worth knowing. I can help you out there."

"Thank you," Hari replied without moving.

"Harry isn't going to shake _your_ hand," said a petulant voice from the corridor. "Give it up _Malfoy_."

Hari opened his eyes and sighed. "I appreciate the offer, and should I require any help you may rest assured that I will remember you. I mean no slight or disrespect, but I do wish to enjoy the remainder of the trip in quiet contemplation. You are welcome to sit with me, so long as you don't mind that I will be sitting in silence."

Draco, who turned out to be a blond aristocratic-looking youngling, lowered his hand slowly and tilted his head just a bit. "You're not what I expected," he said after a moment. "See you around."

Hari inclined his head politely, and Draco departed. The two boys to either side and behind him followed, while the red-haired other boy pushed back in and sat down in the corner farthest from Hari's own seat.

"You don't have to be so nice to him," the boy said. "You can just tell him to stuff it."

"I have no wish to spread conflict," Hari replied.

"If you want conflict, just look for _Malfoy_ ," the boy said, clearly irritated. "'Cause he's usually in the center of it."

Hari closed his eyes, and the newcomer fell silent. He didn't leave, though; Hari could still hear him breathing, moving around, making the overly-loud sounds of someone trying ineffectually to be quiet. It blended into background noise soon enough, and the boy did manage an impressive job of keeping others away.

Hari considered that he may be wasting a valuable chance to build early relationships with these fellow magical younglings, but he'd never been much of a socialite. And he still had a patchy and unclear idea of this planet, insufficient to be certain of how he would be _expected_ to behave.

He was here to learn about magic, not befriend younglings.

He'd never been good with younglings. They seemed so incomplete, their young hastiness to conclusions, their unwillingness to accept logical corrections. Hari couldn't remember ever being so young, it must have been very long ago.

And now, of course. Present reality ought to count for something, shouldn't it? His former life remained vague and ever more so. Even with Sev purring from the seat beside him, he found it more and more difficult to remember his namesake. _Toretin Severil II, Bothan nobility, or whatever their cultural equivalent was. We met. . . we met. . . on a mission, when we were assigned together. Our masters brought us, as apprentices. He was from another world's academy, not Coruscant. It was. . ._

He couldn't remember. Once, he would have been able to list every world with a Jedi temple, every world with a Jedi currently assigned. Once he had known hundreds of things he couldn't even enumerate now, whole categories of knowledge just missing.

But one thing he still knew. Acting like a child would be near-impossible, and befriending those around him doubly so. He had no desire to waste his time doing so. The teachers and masters would be much better suited to his acquaintance and temperament.

The train continued its way. Hari noticed the occasional gawker come by, but the loud red-haired boy sharing the compartment took charge of driving them away. Hari tuned out the whole affair, returning once again to his quiet meditation.

Then he sensed something. Just a flicker, at the extreme edge of his senses. A quiet tug on the Force, the faintest of ripples, but originating far away. Not from himself. Not from Sev. From somewhere ahead and to the left, somewhere near where they seemed to be heading.

He leaped to his feet, grinning without even trying to hide it. "I'm not alone!" he exclaimed, picking up Sev and spinning in a tiny circle, the cat showing his protest by wriggling free of Hari's grasp and leaping to the floor.

"I've been here all along, mate," the other boy said, but Hari ignored him. It felt strangely _right_ to physically demonstrate his exuberance, and he realized that this new youthful life of his may be even more of a gift than he'd originally expected.

He stood, pressed his hands against the window, eyes closing once more, and reached out toward that flicker of familiar, comfortable, alive Force. Someone else on this world. Another Force-sensitive, or perhaps more than one.

The ripples never grew stronger, though they grew nearer and nearer. Indeed, they almost seemed to fade the closer the train drew. Hari had to focus on the source to keep it fixed in his mind, it was so weak he couldn't just relegate it to unconscious awareness. But he was a Jedi, and his ability to remain focused was not subject to the common impatience or distraction of a youngling whatever his physical form.

Even as the train stopped and they were instructed to disembark and follow the instructor toward the lake, Hari kept the vast majority of his attention on the distant echoes that rang out so faintly. They were different from any other echoes he'd felt before, not quite like those on any world he'd visited, nor those who he'd seen pass through Coruscant's academy.

There was a gentleness to the ripples that told him whoever caused them was careful, delicate in their use of the Force. There was a starkness to them that made him certain it would be only an isolated few, not an entire town or city. There was a loneliness that made him sure they, too, whoever they were, could sense the way the Force yearned so desperately to be used, to be connected to every living thing as it ought to be.

Why wasn't it? It was still _created_ by all life. It flowed so heavily around everything on Earth that it ought to be. Yet it lay dormant. A spider's web drifting free in the wind without reed to hold it or spider to watch it. Seeds carried on the waters until they sank and lay unliving at the bottom of a pool. Life and change and connection, but unused. Purposeless direction, an unseen guide with no followers.

 _No, not none. There is someone else. And there is me._

Hari would not leave this state of stagnation uncorrected. The Force cried out so strongly to be used, to be shaped, to be directed and to guide. And he knew that must be why he'd been called here. He would not neglect his task.

But for now, his attention was diverted by the instructions of his teachers, the cacophony of strangers, and the sound of his name being called insistently.

"Potter, Harry," the tall woman said, with a firm tone while staring at him, and he realized that she _had_ said it already.

He nodded, to scattered laughter.

She pointed to a stool, upon which sat a hat. Hari stepped toward it, uncertain.

"Sit down and place the hat on your head," she said sternly, and he had the distinct impression that had they not been in front of such an assembly, he'd have gotten a considerably longer lecture.

This distraction was too much, he lost track of the ripples in the Force, couldn't even be sure which direction they'd been in. So faint, and now he couldn't sense them at all. . .

"Mr. Potter," the woman said warningly.

Hari picked up the hat, sat down, placed it on his head.

Something tried to access his mind. He felt it quite distinctly, searching for something, and couldn't block it from seeing. He could protect himself from intrusion, but whatever this was felt non-invasive. At least, not by the standards he was used to.

It reminded him of the way you keep your surroundings in mind, the way it feels when another attentive Jedi walks by, the knowledge that he knows about you and you know about him. But different, completely.

 _Then_ something tried to intrude, and that he could prevent.

The Jedi training left nearly every student with strong and instinctive mental defences, as much in protection from the lighthearted pranking of fellow students as anything else. The few Sith, Dark Jedi, or other practitioners of the Dark Side were uncommon enough that Jedi rarely had to protect themselves in earnest, but it was required that they all maintain a sufficient level of mental preparedness.

The intrusion attempt ceased, and Hari frowned. Why was he sitting in front of the staring school? He had been too distracted. Ever that had been his flaw. "Focus on the moment too strongly, you do," Master Yoda had said. "Ignoring the future even as it happens, not wise this is."

Hari cleared his throat and turned to the older woman. "I apologize, I was distracted and did not pay attention to the instructions given earlier. What am I supposed to be doing?"

"You don't need to _do_ anything. The hat will Sort you into the correct house."

"How?"

"Silently," said a dark-haired man at the nearby table, in a tone of finality.

Hari nodded and waited silently.

The mental intrusion pressed against his mind again, and he wondered if this was a test. It wasn't a very difficult one, but then it was probably intended for ordinary children, not trained Jedi.

He waited silently. The attempt was repeated, then stopped, then repeated. Some were short, some longer. None lasted more than half a minute. None were even close to strong enough to penetrate his mind.

He waited silently. The rest of the room did not. Whispers began to spread, as people lost interest in staring at him and began conversations among themselves. The other younglings waiting in line for their turn looked anxious and uncomfortable.

Hari waited silently.


	7. Sorted

After ten minutes, the woman took the hat off his head and swapped it with her own hat. She frowned, staring absently at the wall a long moment, then chuckled and replaced the hat on Hari's head.

"It cannot reach your mind through your Occlumency barrier," she said softly. "I am quite impressed, but please do allow it in."

The mental intrusion pressed again, and Hari reached out to meet it.

"Finally," a voice whispered in his mind. "Your mind is far too well. . . Oh. Well, so _that's_ where you've been all these years. Wow, a _lot_ of years. My. I can hardly credit this, your life has been astounding. And it appears you already have a place. And an education. And a lifetime of experience. You are no child, but. . . Ah, yes, in magic you are still as ignorant as the most isolated magbob. So your time here will not be wasted."

Hari allowed the rambling words to reach him, but didn't see any need to reply.

"Tricky. Very tricky. You have an excellent analytic mind, well trained. And a _stunning_ level of dedication and loyalty. Any preference?"

Hari shook his head.

"Very well. We'll let fate decide." The voice chuckled. "Since you were paying no attention to anything, choose by colour. Blue, or yellow?"

"Yellow," Hari replied without thought. The sentinel's path had always held most appeal to him. Guardians were too focused on conflict, and Consulars had a more hands-off approach that he found irritating. The middle road, balanced between, that was where he belonged.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted, and then the woman removed it from his head and pointed him toward the black and yellow table.

The ceremony proceeded, but all attention was on Hari now.

"I've never heard of a Sorting taking so long! What were you talking about for all that time?"

"I did not know to allow the intrusion past my mental shields," Hari replied. "That is all."

" _Mental shields?!_ How powerful _are_ you? There have been rumors, of course, but. . ."

The other boy was staring at him with awe, a look that he'd received often enough as a Jedi to be slightly weary of it. Though, as before, he could think of no specific instances.

"Stronger than some, weaker than others," Hari replied. "I have no way to know the relative power of anyone here, so I cannot ascertain my place in your power structure yet."

"Did the hat want to put you in Ravenclaw?" a girl asked, giggling. "Is that what you were discussing?"

"I do not know. It offered me the choice between blue and yellow."

"Hah!" she said, leaning back and looking smug. "I _definitely_ want to study with _you_ from now on."

"But he's only a first-year," said another girl with darker hair. "He won't even be learning the same things!"

The smug-looking girl just smiled. "Harry won't mind that, I'm sure he'll be ahead of us all from the very start." She leaned closer toward him, but since she was half a dozen seats down and on the opposite side of the table it didn't do much to create privacy. "Right, Harry?"

Hari was saved from replying by a polite ringing that sounded across the room, and he turned to see the old man standing and tapping his glass.

"Attention, everyone. Before we begin our feast, I should like to say a few words."

He hesitated, as though readying himself to make a proclamation, and said with slow grandiosity;

"Scarlet, whisper, trinket, savor."

He paused just long enough that people started to appear confused, then clapped his hands and waved them toward the tables, which were immediately covered with food.

"Tuck in, no need to stand on ceremony."

Then the old man returned to the high table and sat down.

Hari had thought himself well acquainted with Earth foods by now, but the variety here was quite astounding. His 'family' had never had many of them, even for themselves and their precious Dudley, let alone to him.

But for all that, he found it a subdued meal. Everything said by his fellow students about the great hero Harry was, their questions about his life since defeating he-who-must-not-be-named, only brought home harder the fact that their hero was gone. And that Hari had somehow taken his place.

He couldn't recall anything that would explain the phenomenon. As far as he could tell, Jedi who died usually either become one with the Force or they remained cohesive as Force entities. He'd never heard of anyone being transported across space and into the body of someone else. Particularly on a planet as stagnant and disconnected from the Force as Earth.

It didn't make sense.

So he evaded the questioners as much as possible, feeling more and more guilty by the moment, and lost any appetite for the meal. He ate slowly and methodically, because he needed food, not enjoying any of it.

Finally, the food cleared away - instantly, vanishing without any movement of Force, without light or sound - and the old man stood up again.

"Now that we've all eaten our fill of this wonderful feast, I have a few start-of-term notices for you all. First, to those in the fifth year or higher, we are able this year to offer the unique opportunity to study Alchemy with my old friend, Nicholas Flamel."

He gestured to another, even older man, sitting at the high table. The man gave a wave and nod of acknowledgment.

"Yes, the rumors are true. Those wishing to take part in his lessons must inform their head-of-house, and pass a lengthy written exam to ensure they are capable of managing the coursework. He will only be with us until the Easter holidays."

There was some excited whispering, and Hari got the immediate impression that Nicholas Flamel was even more famous than the boy-who-lived.

"First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all students when not accompanied by a teacher or instructed specifically to do so. Magic is not to be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch tryouts will take place in two weeks' time, contact Madame Hooch if interested in playing for your house team."

He paused, his smile fading somewhat. "It is my great regret to inform you all that our Muggle Studies professor, Quirinus Quirrell, never returned from his tour around the world, and in fact has not been heard from at all for several months now. It is therefore necessary to announce his replacement. Mariana Kendricks will be teaching Muggle Studies this year."

He waved a hand to indicate a cheery young woman, probably in her late twenties, with a rounded face and the curliest blond hair Hari had ever seen.

"Her husband, John Kendricks, has also agreed most graciously to fill the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher which has, alas, been recently left vacant yet again."

The man sitting beside her was short, only barely as tall as his wife, with dark hair tied back from his face. His eyes were hidden behind thick rectangular spectacles and his carefully trimmed beard only added to his stern countenance. He nodded stiffly at the introduction, expression unchanged.

"I believe that concludes our essential notices for now. Time to sing the school song!" He waved his hand and words appeared floating in the air, not unlike a hologram but uneven, drifting as though each were affected by individual winds. "Everyone stand up, pick your favourite tune and sing along!"

The room filled with a cacophony of discordant voices. Hari tried to harmonize with the nearest clump of singers - a handful of students nearby seemed to have formed an impromptu group and used the same tune - but the timing and rhythm were impossible to guess as everyone seemed to be using different rates to sing at. Even those attempting to cooperate clearly hadn't planned to do so in advance, and the result was a complete chaos.

Hari eventually tuned out the other singers completely and instead chanted it to the tune and rhythm of an old Jedi legend. The words escaped him, but the lyrical flow of it remained in his mind clearly enough for this purpose.

"Well done, everyone," the old man said, applauding slowly. A scattering of students followed his lead before he raised his hands for silence. "Now, off to bed! We've a long day of grand learning tomorrow." The older students groaned, while younger children appeared eager.

Hari followed the prefect down the hall and near the kitchens - he could hear the distinctive sounds of dishes being washed - and around the halls with the other students. They descended to a low, round room whose overall appearance was bright and golden-toned. Hari found it warmly reminiscent of certain offices he'd had occasion to visit on Coruscant, without the emotionless distance of the higher officials. The colours were welcoming and familiar, the abundance of plants reminding him of certain meditation rooms in the Jedi Temple.

He was surrounded by a babble of voices, dozens of students talking over each other. They continued asking him questions to which he did not know the answers, but before things could get too out of hand one of the prefects stood and gave a brief welcoming speech. This quieted everyone down, and as the voice droned on it began to remind the children of how late it was, how comfortably full they were, and how welcoming their beds would be.

Hari felt no such thing, having not overindulged at the meal nor did he particularly require sleep after his long meditation on the train ride. He wanted to explore the castle, mentally chart its corridors and byways so he could be well acquainted with his new home should any necessity arrive. However, the older students seemed disinclined to depart from the common room, which meant he'd either need to risk trying to mentally deceive them all or wait for a better opportunity to present itself.

Given how violently powerful the Force reacted any time Hari tried to use it, he did not wish to risk mental manipulation on the vulnerable minds of children. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed them.

So he instead sat on a plant-draped ledge and read his course books again, trying to take in their contents intellectually even if he found no comprehension yet. The feel of physical books remained strange to him, the fragility and simultaneous weight. So much thicker and heavier than flimsiplast, but so much more delicate. So much less informative than holographic displays or datapad entries, but they had a quaint charm that Hari found himself growing to appreciate more and more.

There was a feel of ancientness to them, even though he knew they were manufactured by the hundreds and carried no special qualities. He just wished he could make more sense of their contents.

No one here was Force-sensitive. He wasn't showing any signs of being magical. Someone had mistaken the one ability for the other, and this would likely all prove to be a pointless waste of time.

But Hari had nowhere else to go, nothing better to do with his second childhood. He could learn just as much about Earth here as he could back with his unwilling relatives. One group of people or another group of people, they would all have perfectly valid ideas and beliefs. He was welcomed here, and unwanted at Privet Drive.

Perhaps magical ability would manifest itself to him. Perhaps it would not. Either way, Hogwarts castle _was_ his new home, and would remain such until he came of age and began his true mission of bringing the Force back into its proper strength.

The Force needed to be balanced, spread among all the creatures and peoples of the world, connected to itself and each other and the greater galaxy. Not this stagnant power that lingered, cut off, desperate to be used and unable to ever grow or change. Hari couldn't bear to believe it had to remain this way. He would restore it, somehow.

With that thought foremost in his mind, he didn't even notice as he slipped quietly from contemplation into dreams.


	8. Unknown

_"Why do you walk the stars, human child? You feel like kin, though you have no ties to us. Who are you?"_

 _Hari turned, looked down at the lights below him, the words echoing up from them to where he flew. They felt familiar and warm, vibrating in the Force. He nearly wept with gratitude, joy at finding a connection outside himself._

 _"You know this power," said another star, sounding surprised. "This is no accidental flickering of strength untaught. You remain."_

 _"Where else would I go?" Hari asked, flying lower toward them. The welcoming wholeness of being back with those connected to the Force was overwhelming. He had known intellectually, but hadn't fully realized how alone and lifeless his time on Earth had been until it was contrasted here._

 _But the lights withdrew, backing from him so that the same distance always remained between them._

 _"You do not belong here, human child, whatever your strength," said the first star, and Hari felt the force of that rejection like a physical push. He drifted backward, away from them, his heart breaking._

 _"You don't want me?" he asked, confused. "But we are kin. All Jedi, whatever we may be physically. You can't just call me 'human' and turn away, what does that matter when our minds and souls are as one?"_

 _The stars hummed with quiet conversation, their language foreign and so deep he could only make out a few sounds. He drifted nearer, hoping they would reverse their rejection, but even as they talked among themselves they continued to withdraw as he advanced, always maintaining that same distance._

 _"You are not as we expected," a slower star said at last. "You call yourself 'Jedi'?"_

 _"I was trained as a Jedi," Hari said. "I was a master once, but most of what I knew is gone. I don't know if I can truly lay claim to that title now, but it is still who I feel myself to be."_

 _The stars were silent below him. Hari did not speak, knew that he should not break this stillness. He didn't try to direct his flight, no longer sought to draw nearer. Only waited._

 _"We see that you are not as we believed," said the first star. "We accept your belief and will consider your future with the weight it deserves. Go now, Jedi. We will meet again."_

 _The stars below him vanished, and he flew upward again toward the unspeaking stars above._

* * *

"Did you sleep in the common room all night?"

Hari shook his head, but he suspected his explanation of meditating and performing exercises for several hours in the peaceful stillness of the early morning would not be welcomed information.

He showered, dressed, and was ready to depart for breakfast precisely on time. A few of his classmates were scurrying, and the older students seemed hardly interested in getting up at all. The first years lined up in a clump by the door and the sixth-year prefects escorted them the short walk to the great hall.

To his surprise, Hari found himself still the center of attention despite his less than enthusiastic response the night before. And now he felt ashamed of himself for that as well; these people thought him a hero, a role model, and he ought to do his best to live up to that reputation, not just ignore everyone's accolades. Even if the praise belonged by right to a person he was not, they deserved to have the hero they thought he was.

So he smiled and shook hands and patted shoulders, acting the part of a popular public figure. He'd certainly been around enough politicians to have the act come easily to him, though what to actually _say_ eluded him. It felt awkward and fake, but the younglings didn't notice or care.

Because, in the end, they were still younglings, and their concerns were so small and inconsequential. Hari had never taken an apprentice, never bothered to spend much time with those far younger than himself. It hadn't been necessary, there were plenty of Jedi taking one apprentice after another, and Hari just didn't have the temperament for it.

About half the seats in the great hall were taken as Hari and the other first year Hufflepuffs filed in. The green table seemed fullest, while the blue and red were sparser. After the food appeared, students continued to come and go. Hari ate with measured speed, finishing within the first twenty minutes. He saw no benefit in engaging in conversation with these younglings; they saw him as a celebrity for something he himself had no part of, and their entire perception of him would be built upon that misconception.

Instead, he found his attention gravitating toward the head table, toward those older and wiser. More like the Jedi that had been his only true family within memory. He wasn't quite certain of Earth customs on the matter, but suspected that it would be a breach of propriety for an eleven-year-old to walk up to the teachers at their table.

He studied them in silence, and found one in particular returning his attention. The older man introduced as Nicholas Flamel, his beard neatly trimmed and much shorter than the headmaster's, he held a gravity that carried over into the Force even without his active connection to it. His eyes carried the weight of centuries, but despite that he gave Hari a smile and nodded to him in friendly greeting. Hari nodded back, more deeply.

Though he couldn't precisely _sense_ the man, he could _tell_ he was there - which was more than he could tell about anyone else. And while the Force was still reacting far too strongly and with volatility that he couldn't reliably constrain, he had the distinct feeling that if he could still hear its whispers guiding him it would say 'that man is important.'

Hari memorized the face, though it wasn't going to be hard to pick him out. He was obviously the oldest teacher on staff.

Tearing his attention away from the man at last, Hari returned to his perusal of the high table's occupants. He recognized the stern woman who'd been presiding over the hat ceremony, the headmaster, and his own head-of-house.

The rest he observed and categorized, memorized their mannerisms at table, but there was little more he could do as a student and from this distance.

Breakfast dragged on and on. For nearly an hour after he finished, still younglings came and went, but the other first years (and all the prefects) remained seated and so Hari remained with them. Much as he wanted to explore the castle, wandering alone would still be frowned on. So long as he seemed a youngling himself, he must remain particularly cautious not to flout the rules. It would set a very bad example, especially if he planned to live up to the legend built around 'Harry Potter'.

He closed his eyes and let the chaotic sounds of the eating and chatting roll over him, and when an omni-distant chime echoed across the hall he was the first to stand.

Food and dishes alike vanished, by a process which Hari neither sensed nor could begin to guess at. Several teachers had already departed for their classrooms, but the older man and headmaster were sitting next to each other and talking in low voices.

Someone behind Hari jostled into him, but when he turned he couldn't tell who it had been. The room was dissolving into complete bedlam as the remaining students hurried out into the castle.

Hari's timetable listed Defence Against the Dark Arts as the first class of the day, in R-217. Actually locating the room turned out to be more difficult than simply finding the seventeenth room on the second floor, as the numbering system of the castle seemed patched together at random.

Right then, they were beside rooms 122 and 601, both of which were on the fifth floor. Hari decided that, rules or no rules, he simply _must_ find a time to gain a proper understanding of the castle's inexplicable layout.

"Is lunch attendance mandatory?" he asked a fellow first-year. The group had largely stayed together, though they'd already spent nearly their entire allotment of time for moving between classes and still not located the proper classroom.

"Not _really_ ," the girl said. "But you'll be very hungry if you skip, and they don't give out snacks."

"But I could eat and then depart?" Hari pressed.

She shrugged and nodded.

"Found it!" a boy called out from farther down the hall, and the conversation went no farther as everyone rushed to the door and piled into the classroom.

* * *

 _Author's Notes :_

 _Thank you reviewers for your comments and theories! I've never had such a big response to an update before, it made me so happy I was able to finish this chapter in record time. :D_

 _I also adjusted the synopsis, as there seems to be some confusion about the basic premise of this story._ _;P (_ _Hari and Harry are the exact same person, though he doesn't realize that yet.)_


	9. Bonding

Several students with red-trimmed robes had already seated themselves in the right half of the classroom, though two latecomers arrived as the Hufflepuffs crowded in and scrambled for seats. Hari allowed the small crowd to move around him, unconcerned with which seat he ended up in, and finally settled toward the middle of the room.

The teacher, John Kendricks as he'd been introduced at dinner the previous night, emerged from his office only moments after Hari seated himself.

"Good morning, class," he said, his accent crisp and clipped. He sounded perpetually in a hurry, and perhaps even slightly irritated.

A few students replied back, and Hari answered, "Good Morning, master," before pausing to think it through.

A few other younglings looked at him curiously, but most either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Though in your early years of study Defence Against the Dark Arts may seem to be less about 'Dark arts' and more about common sense, I assure you that the foundation we establish this year will be built to a rounded and complete understanding of how, where, and most importantly _when_ to protect yourselves from all but the very darkest of magics. There are some which must be avoided at all costs, but as I highly doubt any of you will have call to encounter them until well after graduation I would not concern yourselves with them at this time."

Master Kendricks took a pair of books from his desk and held them up, one in each hand. "You have been assigned two books for this year's class. 'The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection' by Quentin Trimble is an absolute mainstay. You should study this book until you know it by instinct."

Hari hadn't found it to be particularly informative, but he brought it from his bag and set it on the desk in front of him anyway.

"Second, my personal addition to the curriculum, 'Against the Fangs of Darkness' by Kimiro Liu. This book will form our primary text for the practical lessons, though you will be required to refer to both books for your homework assignments."

Some Gryffindors groaned at that. Hari frowned at them. Cross-referencing between two books was hardly something to be bothered by.

Master Kendricks seemed to agree, as he continued, "I expect you all to read the first chapter of each book before class next week and write a brief summary of the topics covered. Five inches will suffice."

Hari scribbled the homework assignment onto his noteparchment.

"Quentin Trimble begins right up front with the most dangerous thing you are likely to encounter in common life: werewolf bites. This is a particularly essential thing for _every single witch and wizard to know_ since the early treatment and removal of the werewolf venom is the sole preventative measure available. Once the disease takes hold, it cannot be excised by any power known to wizardkind. This topic will be covered in the end-of-year exams, but I expect you to know the treatment techniques to a practical degree long before that."

He set down the book, held up the other.

"Kimiro Liu, on the other hand, begins with the most basic of all defencive magic. Lumos, whose light is inherently positive, can be used as a deterrent against several common Dark creatures of low to moderate danger. It is one of the most versatile of all known spells. In its purest form, it is a simple point of illumination, but it can also be thrown, stuck to objects, narrowed into a beam, or overcharged into a blinding flash. It is the basis for several more complicated illumination spells, and is one of the few spells not proscribed under the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and thus can be used at need even at your young age."

Hari wrote this down, though he recalled already hearing something along these lines.

Master Kendricks set down that book as well. "Today, you will all learn to cast 'Lumos'. Next week, we will be going into detail about the treatment of werewolf bites, and I expect you all to be familiar with the basics by that time."

He stared pointedly around the room to ensure his point was taken, then began demonstrating and lecturing about the correct way to cast the illumination spell Lumos.

As they began the practical portion of the class time, Hari flourished his wand as instructed and spoke the incantation. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened.

He hesitantly reached out to the Force, the contact allowing it to crash through him so strongly he nearly dropped his wand. He took a moment to recover, to center himself within the raging torrent of energy that flooded through him and out and back so strongly and chaotically, then raised his wand and tried a second time.

"LU-mos," he said, his pronunciation perfect, his wand movement nearly so. Again, nothing. He practiced the motion several more times (the Force was pressing against him, urging him to _do_ something, its wild uncertainty a constant distraction) until he could perform it almost flawlessly, then tried yet again.

Nothing. Still nothing.

He pushed the Force away, closed himself back into his own calm. Concentrating on the wand he held, he tried to reach out to it as though it were the Force. A different power, an echo, something he'd sensed before only faintly. He was wary of it, but how many powers could there be on this world? So he reached to it, straining and fumbling clumsily, like a youngling unsure of the Force.

Hari sensed no change. He waved the wand and recited the incantation, but it was equally useless. He wasn't truly connected to this shadow of Force, even if it were the source of magic on Earth. It skittered away from him, or he slid around it, neither of them truly reaching toward the other. Both equally wary, or so it felt to Hari.

Across the room, other students began to succeed in lighting up their wands. Hari tried again, but he knew even before looking that he'd failed again. And there was no trick of the Force he could substitute. Not that he had any desire to cheat, but it did rankle a bit to see this clear evidence of his own inferiority. In a room full of untrained younglings, only he couldn't perform the simplest of protective charms.

Master Kendricks watched them, nearly all the students holding their lit wands triumphantly. Some flickered out, some only flared up briefly to begin with, but only Hari found no success whatsoever.

"LUmos," he said, perfectly, waving the wand with precision. _Nothing._

"Alright," Master Kendricks said. "Enough. Remember, five inches on the introductory chapters of both books, and I expect you to be prepared to discuss werewolf bites next week."

The omni-distant bell rang out, signaling the period end, and the students began chattering among themselves as they started from the room.

"Mr. Potter, stay a minute."

Hari waited as the other younglings departed. Master Kendricks strode over to stand a few feet away.

"Your wandwork seems flawless. Cast the spell for me."

"LUmos." No result.

"Your pronunciation is not to blame either." The Defence master frowned slightly. "Keep practicing. Try to manage it by next week. You may go."

Hari bowed respectfully. "Yes, master."

Master Kendricks regarded him with a raised eyebrow as Hari turned to leave.

He really needed to research wizard etiquette, but there didn't seem to be any readily available books on the subject. Did Hogwarts have a library? As an academy of learning, it surely must. What did wizards address their teachers as?

Not 'master' it would seem.

He had twenty-some minutes to locate C-102 for Charms class, after which there would be nearly two hours free if he skipped lunch.

Fortunately, C-102 - along with C-101, C-103, and C-104 - remained in the same easily-located position from year to year. A group of Ravenclaw girls were just coming up from the Charms corridor and were happy to give Hari directions, giggling the whole time. But then one asked for him to sign a page of her noteparchment, and when he agreed the others promptly asked as well, and by the time he extricated himself from them he'd wasted nearly half his remaining time.

Thankfully, their directions had been correct, and he reached C-102 on time and without incident.

Charms class went much like Defence had; a master lectured and taught, the students attempted to perform the magic spell assigned. The movement was more complex this time, the incantation simple enough, but Hari was no longer the only student unable to complete the spell successfully. Only two succeeded, in fact, despite Charms having a much longer practical portion than Defence.

As soon as the class let out, Hari set off on his own to survey the castle. He walked with calm measured steps, taking great care to observe everything as he went. Though the interior was complicated, as though several different architects had designed parts of the overall structure without any concern for what the others did, each area had its own logic to it.

One section contained many wide, shallow staircases, each leading directly to a classroom. One area had balconies and arching pathways and high-ceilinged rooms which reminded him of the Jedi temple back on Coruscant. Another section was painted all in shades of teal, though half the walls were stone and half wood, and the doors all seemed to be made of textured glass.

A corner of the fourth floor connected directly to the middle of the sixth floor by a small doorway that could only be opened every other minute - odd numbered minutes downstairs, even-numbered minutes upstairs.

Just past the Transfiguration classrooms the hallway became extremely narrow and sloped downward to a blank wall, surrounded by four heavy doors without latches or knobs which could not be opened.

The distinctive suit of red and glowing-orange-striped armour that had been outside the Charms corridor that morning was positioned beside the second-floor connection to the grand staircase by lunchtime. Hari doubled back to the Charms corridor to check, and it was indeed missing from its former location.

He only managed to search perhaps a third of the castle before the end of the lunch break, so he returned to T-302 for Transfiguration class.

After Transfiguration - a class which was mostly lecturing and only a very brief practical section, during which no one made any progress - Hari followed the group of first-years to the Lecture Hall. A large semi-circular arena, the classroom could have easily seated hundreds of students, not just the few dozen present. All the houses were present for this class, History of Magic, and it was taught by. . .

Hari leapt from his seat as the teacher floated through the blackboard. A Force-ghost? But as he opened himself to the Force and allowed it to crash discordantly through him he couldn't sense the spirit's presence at all.

Disappointed, he moved to sit, but the ghost teacher stared directly at him with a puzzled expression, and Hari thought he _did_ sense something. Faint, fainter than he could have ever heard if he hadn't been straining day by day in his meditation for that lost thread that he'd found his first day.

Seizing on it, Hari focused in on that faint whisper, closed his eyes and pushed Force toward it through his mind as though trying to create a Force bond. A blunt, clumsy, inelegant move at the best of times. But amplified with the chaos of Earth's influence, the mental thread snared itself around Master Binns with the strength of unassailable surety and fused into place without time for him to even try resisting.

 _Oops_ , Hari thought, as the full impact of his impulsive move dawned on him. In his eagerness, he may have gone too far.

He opened his eyes, to find Master Binns still looking directly at him. The faintly-glowing spirit was bound to him now, somehow, though the exact nature of the Force bond was unclear. The connections between beings were as individual as the beings they connected, the nature of each bond unique.

Hari grinned ruefully and slid back into his seat, hoping he hadn't just made a terrible mistake.


	10. Understanding

The History of Magic class itself was not very interesting, though Hari tried hard to pay attention. Most of the other students seemed to be staring blankly at the admittedly admirable architecture of the lecture hall, gazing longingly out the tall windows, or dozing.

Several students in green-trimmed robes seemed more engrossed in whispered conversation than in the lecture, but over half of Hari's fellow Hufflepuffs (not Sentinels, though the word still came easily to his thoughts) managed to stay focused, as did one girl from the red house (he ought to find the name of that house, because he still found the associations with black and red largely negative) and two of the Ravenclaws.

There was something simultaneously stimulating and mundane about the classes, Hari thought. Perhaps it had merely been too long since he was last a youngling himself, but he found it hard to care very much about what he was learning. He took careful notes from sheer habit, but ached to be _doing_ something.

With the Force so wrong, he was unable to seek its comfort and guidance. It flailed its vast power through him, one of its very few conduits, with all the subtlety and elegance of an infant's tantrum. He would find a way to set things right. He had to.

But in the meantime, he was recording just how many statues of himself the infamous Helios the Hideous had commissioned across the world at the dawn of Wizarding history. Why this was considered essential information, Hari had yet to discover. His grasp of Earth history was tenuous at best, since he'd had only weeks in the 'muggle' school and his studies since then had been largely undirected and far less effective than he'd have preferred.

The lecture wrapped up mere seconds before the bell rang to signal the class's end. The other students stood and began to leave, but Hari found Master Binns's eyes on him and stayed back. There was plenty of time before dinner began, and Hari had only been planning to explore the castle further anyway during the upcoming break.

"You aren't Fleamont, are you?" the spirit asked, as Hari approached. "Always trying to solve that messy hair."

"Hari," he replied. "Harry Potter, officially."

"Officially? I suppose so." The ghost hovered in place a long moment, looking at Hari as though trying to discover something about him, but Hari couldn't guess what.

"What did you do?" Master Binns finally asked. His tone was mild, but his translucent eyes were fixed on Hari with an intensity that suggested anything but.

"I believe I created a Force bond with you," Hari said. "I'm sorry for doing so without your consent or knowledge. I should have been more restrained. The Force on Earth is so strange I'm having a hard time adapting to it, and I didn't realize the effect it would have."

Though now he wished he'd been paying closer attention at the time. Just like with Sev, he had acted on unplanned instinct in the moment.

The spirit was silent for so long Hari began to worry. Without Binns breathing or any motion to show expression, it was difficult to guess what he was thinking.

"That sounds like a binding ritual, but to what end?"

"I acted on a feeling, Master Binns, without thought. I can't guess at what will happen."

Binns nodded slowly. "I feel different, Mr. Potter. Different than I have for years upon years. You have aroused me from a rest I did not realize I was taking, and I do not know if I like it."

"You have my sincerest apologies," Hari said, "should you decide you do not."

The ghost turned and floated through the large blackboard at the back of the room, disappearing from sight. Hari stared after him, then tentatively reached out to the Force again.

The thread shone there still, faint and silvery-grey, pointing Hari toward where he knew he'd find Binns, just as the warm white-gold thread connected him to Sev. His cat was young and energetic; that bond pulsed almost constantly with playful energy, while the new one seemed dull and lethargic in comparison.

He could only believe this to be progress. The more people he could connect with, the more the Force would be brought closer to its true purpose.

Still. It seemed that his second childhood came with more drawbacks than physical size. He'd certainly not been so impulsive as a Jedi Master, nor so careless. _Listen to your feelings, but do not allow yourself to be ruled by emotion's aimless whims._ He would need to relearn his earliest lessons.

The last class of the day was over. All the other students were long gone. Hari stood in the empty lecture hall a long time, running his eyes absently over the architecture.

It made him homesick for the Jedi Temple, lonely in a way no mission or distant trip ever had. This was a different world, a different reality, and he'd never in his life felt so completely out of place.

His traitorously young body filled with sadness and longing, Hari seated himself on the floor and struggled to submerge his mind into meditation.

 _Emotion, yet peace._

He was lost, alone in a world where he couldn't feel he belonged. _No._

 _Ignorance, yet knowledge._

"Are you alright, m'lad?"

Hari opened his eyes and found Master Flamel seated across from him on the floor, a look of concern on his ancient face.

"I'm far from home, Master Flamel, that is all." Hari stood and bowed politely. "If you need the room, I did not mean to intrude."

The older man stood, shaking his head. "No, I wanted to check on you. Cuthbert told me you'd been behaving oddly, and John mentioned you couldn't cast _Lumos_ though your wandwork and pronunciation were flawless. I do love a good puzzle." He chuckled. "I hope you don't find that arrogant."

"No, Master, people are indeed the most interesting puzzles to solve."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? You speak not as one so young."

"I am young only in body," Hari replied. "In spirit, I have lived a full lifetime."

Master Flamel peered over his spectacles at Hari, and nodded slowly. "I can see it," he said. "Fascinating. It almost makes me wish. . . well. Best not to speak of what might have been."

"I am still trying to understand this new world in which I've found myself," Hari admitted.

"Times change. When one lives on for lifetimes, one tends to leave a great many things behind," Master Flamel said, then added more quietly. "A great many people, as well."

Hari nodded. The faces of his companions back in his home galaxy flickered in his mind.

Toretin Severill II, Sev, who he'd grown up with in the Jedi Temple. The bothan was quick and curious, always getting into trouble as quickly as he got out of it, but bore responsibility unflinchingly. Mara-Kon Zenn, a rival and later friend, dedicated and focused. She spoke with consideration, always seeming to know more than she did.

Teira Starstrider, lost so recently the memory still pained him. The twi'lek had always fought hardest for the causes no one else believed could be won, and that had finally caught up to her. Ram Toruno, with his penchant for dark spaces and fast ships.

And, of course, N'Eli.

Hari felt his inner turmoil reach physical tangibility. With the Force so scattered and disconnected, he could no longer seek its solace. Everything else could be borne, but not alone. He ought to be stronger, but he seemed to have forgotten how.

"I have lived longer than anyone else in history," Master Flamel said softly. "I have outlived so many of my beloved friends. My own children, and grandchildren, are no more than names to anyone alive today. I know not how you have come to us, nor what your past lifetime may have been like, but I feel it is my place to assure you of one thing. You are _not alone_."

Hari blinked away his tears to look up at the older man. Master Flamel met his eyes quite seriously, his expression gentle, but Hari could see the deep sadness lurking there. A perfect mirror of his own losses, amplified over and again. He sensed something between them, an understanding.

Perhaps he began alone and far from home, but he didn't have to remain so.

"If ever you find yourself in need of someone to speak with, my office is open to you," Master Flamel said. "Please don't hesitate to call on me, should you require company of an evening."

Hari nodded. "Thank you, Master."

"And please, do not believe I make this offer from some sense of vague duty, Mr. Potter. I would truly welcome the chance to converse with you at greater length."

"Thank you, Master."

Master Flamel smiled and touched his shoulder briefly, then turned and departed.

Hari returned to his meditation, and this time his thoughts settled themselves neatly in plenty of time for him to calmly join the rest of his house for dinner.

* * *

 _Author's Note : _

_I'll be reducing update frequency yet again; my current schedule for my projects is unsustainable. I really wish I didn't have to do this, I love all my projects, but my writing time is limited by work and life. I've posted an updated plan for the next two months on my profile._

 _I have every intention of eventually writing the prequel/original story which this is a sequel to, though I don't have either the Star Wars knowledge or time to do it justice at present. I'm envisioning it as a loosely-connected series of adventures taking place throughout Hari's lifetime, in similar vein to the old Jedi Apprentice series. It will be set in the Legends EU, and I'm currently thinking the era will be somewhere around 700-400 BBY-ish. I have a whole lot of Star Wars novels to read before then, though, as I'm largely ignorant of huge swaths of SW lore at present._

 _If things go exceptionally well, I might be persuaded to send Harry back out into the SW-verse after Jedi of Little Whinging concludes, complete with his new magic abilities. Due to timeline-jumping and universe chronology differentials, that would place him into the movies era, so some considerable planning would have to be done to make it work. Absolutely several years away at this point. We'll see how things go.  
_


	11. Questions

The only thing anyone wanted to talk about the second week of class was the alerts that had been posted to all the House bulletin boards: _Flying lessons_. Hari knew this would be yet another example of magic which refused to work for him, but tolerated his housemates' excitement with the poise and grace befitting a Jedi.

He found solace in the fact that at least they would be working alongside the Ravenclaws. Hari wasn't surprised that the magic hat had offered him blue; apart from his own Hufflepuff they seemed the best suited for a Jedi. Particularly consulars, with their love of study and lore and deep knowledge.

Hari had learned the names of all the houses by then, and dutifully memorized their names, mottoes, preferred virtues, and notable members. Gryffindor, it turned out, had as little in common with the Sith as he could reasonably expect of anyone. They had a Guardian's recklessness and aptitude for confrontation, while Slytherin seemed all too eager to engage them.

Slytherin itself seemed like a rather Sith-ish house, valuing personal ambition and an eagerness for power which made Hari more than a little uncomfortable. Hogwarts seemed strange, yes, but only now did he really understand how completely foreign this place was. Where they would have a whole section of the school dedicated to teaching those sort, and encouraging their lust for power?

Hufflepuff house had been welcoming, even if its manner remained unfamiliar to him. While he felt disconnected from the younglings, he could see the potential in them, the strength of character.

Slytherin was the discordant note in Hogwarts' tune, and its existence bothered Hari almost as much as his own continued inability to fix the Force.

Several of his fellow Hufflepuffs had reported run-ins with Slytherins, and none of them had been positive. Hari had yet to decide on a personal policy for such instances - were anything to occur in front of him, he would at once act in defence of anyone being assailed, but when he was not there to observe or intervene in the initial event, was it his place to seek justice afterward? Or ought he leave them to it?

He wasn't technically an adult here, wasn't considered a person of authority. And, considering how volatile his emotions were now despite his best attempts at control, he suspected that may be for the best. He'd found himself almost shouting at a Gryffindor who just refused to listen to reason, stubbornly insisting that he hadn't done what Hari had _just watched him do._ But it wasn't his place to correct the behavior of every Hogwarts youngling.

 _Don't interfere. Don't get involved. Stay out of planetary affairs._

* * *

One evening after classes concluded, instead of starting immediately for the library as had become his habit - there was always so much more he didn't know - he found himself wandering up to the sixth floor Alchemy classroom. Master Flamel's sole class, Alchemy took place after dinner during the time when most students had 'clubs' or participated in less formalized evening activities.

Hari wasn't sure himself why he'd come up here, but he tapped on Master Flamel's door anyway in case the teacher was preparing for his lessons before heading down to dinner.

The door opened almost at once.

"Harry, do come in."

Master Flamel stood aside as Hari entered. He tapped a classroom chair with his wand, transforming it into a much more comfortable shape, and offered it to his guest. Hari accepted gracefully, though he required no such accommodations. The older man transformed a second chair and settled into it himself, then leaned forward and peered at Hari.

"What brings you to my corner of the castle?" Master Flamel inquired.

Hari paused to gather his thoughts.

"How should I deal with Slytherin?" he asked at last. "It is an unseemly blight upon Hogwarts, and on Earth. Why is it permitted to continue? Is there any way I can. . . fix it? Is there anything I _should_ do? Or is it truly nothing I should be involved with until I'm 'older'?"

Master Flamel chuckled. "Would it surprise you to know that I myself belonged to Slytherin house?"

"Yes," Hari admitted. "You seem very Ravenclaw to me."

"And yet it is by my endless ambition that I have come this far. By my dedication and cunning that I've discovered what I have. Harry. . . it is far too easy to sort people into categories and judge them without due consideration."

"I'm not judging without consideration," Hari said. "I have watched. The Slytherin house is a hotbed of darkness and arrogance. They are as Sith-like a group as I've ever encountered, and the fact that Hogwarts is _teaching them how to use this power_ is terrifying to me. Can you imagine what will happen when they are grown and powerful?"

Master Flamel took a moment to reply. "Much of what you see now is an aftermath of the brief, violent conflict which ripped through Wizarding Britain," he said. "And scarcely a decade ago did it end. Lines were drawn, enmities created, and factions set into place which have yet to dissolve. This conflict is what you see, not the true reality of Slytherin. Right now, 'Slytherin' and 'Dark Wizard' are indeed close to synonymous in the eyes of the world."

"So that will change?" Hari asked, skeptically. "Without intervention, it will just fix itself?"

"I agree with you that _right now_ Slytherin house is not behaving with honour. But to repair the attitudes of others is never easy, Harry, especially when they have no reason to accept your help. Understanding is your best weapon and strongest shield."

Hari nodded, feeling emptier than before. "Understanding." It should have been easy, he was a _Jedi_ , understanding other people's perspectives was his life. But so much of that life was nothing but fragments and glimpses, he vacillated between utter confidence and near-complete ignorance.

While his understanding of Earth and, particularly, its magical populace was growing at a steady rate, his understanding of humanity seemed to waver by the day. Part of it, he knew, was simply that his physical mind wasn't fully developed, and that certain concepts would remain out of his proper reach - or at least much more difficult - until Harry reached proper adulthood. Part was the transition, his knowledge lost in the shift between galaxies.

But more, he knew, was the result of his own choices. His personal focus had always been on the deeper level beneath relationships and above them - on systems and possibilities and making things _work_.

"I've never been the most socially apt Jedi," Hari admitted quietly. "I had a group of friends, allies. We worked together all the time, they covered for my weakness and I covered for theirs as best we could. It's been years since we were all together, of course. I'd been a Master on the Council, staying on Coruscant for the most part, and they each had their own apprentices and tasks. But we always knew that we had each other, if we needed them."

Master Flamel nodded encouragingly.

"I've forgotten how to begin, I suppose," Hari said after a moment. "I lived within the confines of the Jedi Order all my life, the same people as friends and teachers and companions. For over a hundred years, the same people, I knew them so well-" He was starting to choke up, emotion clogging his throat. "I have to begin again, but I'm not sure how to," he said faintly.

Master Flamel put a hand on Hari's shoulder. "I understand," he said softly. "I have been fortunate, my wife Perenell has been with me for most of my years, but it is easy to lose track of the world. To look up one day and discover that it has moved on far beyond where you left it last, with new customs and ideals. The occasional new country or continent." He shook his head. "I'd imagine it's even worse for you, being non-native yourself."

Hari nodded, taking his emotions firmly under control again. "I inherited a lot of basic understanding when I arrived into this body," he said, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable but wanting Master Flamel to understand. "I still don't know what's happening. Why I'm here. How."

"Purpose is what we make of it, my boy," Nicholas Flamel said.

"I know my _purpose_ ," Hari said firmly. "That I have no doubt of. This world is separate from the Force, something has gone wrong, and I mean to set it right."

"Indeed? Your Force is not merely another name for magic?"

Hari shook his head. "I can do things with the Force that your magic cannot. And I am unable to perform even the simplest spells." He waved his wand in a perfect arc and flicked it toward a sheet of parchment, incanting _wingardium leviosa_ with precise timing. The parchment didn't so much as flutter.

Then Hari set the wand aside and lifted the parchment with the Force, folding it into a holocron shape before setting it back down on the desk.

Master Flamel nodded slowly. "I could replicate that folding pattern with my magic," he said, "but it is certainly no first-year spell. The precision of control necessary is far beyond a beginner. And certainly wandless it would be difficult. What else can your Force do, if you don't mind my asking?"

Hari began listing Force abilities, starting from common telekinesis and physical amplification like healing and jumping and speed, then into environmental manipulation like creating lightning or fire or wind, then to interpersonal connections - bonding, mind-reading and influence, telepathy.

"I know the Force is still active here, because I've been able to connect with Sev, that's my cat, and Master Binns."

"Binns?" Nicholas Flamel suddenly appeared very interested. "I've noticed a marked change in his behavior of late."

Hari winced slightly. "That would be my fault, I'm afraid. I acted on impulse without forethought. Have the changes been. . . detrimental?"

"No, on the contrary, he seems much less passive now. For as long as I've known him he had a passion for obscure history, that in his older years became stifled by routine and repetition. He would never give up the subject, but he didn't truly care as he once did. Now, I've seen him performing research again and updating his notes."

"How?" Hari asked. Though Force ghosts could speak with the living, their ability to interact with the physical world was lost when they died. Perhaps 'ghosts' here were different after all?

"Magic," Master Flamel replied. "He always was a dab hand at nonverbal levitation, was Binns. Easier to carry stacks of books about, you see."

"Ghosts can use magic?" Hari asked, surprised. From the Force ghosts he'd heard about in Jedi legend, he had the impression that they could share wisdom with the living but little beyond that.

"Some can, the strongest and most determined. They cannot use wands, but their innate ability remains in some ways intact. But we have strayed from the topic at hand. You are asking about purpose, and about my house."

"Something must be done," Hari insisted.

"I do not know everything, Harry. I can consider the problem, but I do not have a ready solution to every conundrum you may face." Master Flamel chuckled dryly. "I'm not so old or wise as that."

"I don't care what it takes," Hari said. "Slytherin needs to change, or be removed."

"I would point out, however," Master Flamel said gently, "that you've been here less than a month. While you may have a correct grasp of the situation, I would highly recommend that you spend considerably lorger ascertaining the social - and political - landscape of Slytherin house before you attempt to intervene. Mistakes could be much more costly than inaction."

Hari nodded. He understood patience, pursuing a goal cautiously and steadily. "But what should I _do_."

"That is always the great question, is it not?" Master Flamel said. "In this case, watch. Consider. Learn. And, if at all possible Harry, try to understand."

"I can understand them far too easily," Hari replied. "They seek power, and are willing to accept any meagre advantage over their fellows to believe themselves greater. They care nothing for any but themselves-"

"An almost universal failing among the young," Master Flamel said, his tone still gentle, but Hari still felt the admonishment in his words.

"But not one that need be permitted. Not that we should allow them to act upon unhindered. What they do now in halls and corridors with words and quiet jinxes, imagine how much greater a peril it will be when played out upon the world, with true power behind word and deed."

"Remember, Harry, that what we are as children does not always reflect what we will become. I myself was not a particularly kind or caring boy, but I have had many centuries in which to learn empathy and understanding for those I would formerly have dismissed out of hand. If I am to teach you anything of true worth, then let it be the value of patience. You need not act now. You need not even decide how to act. It is enough to observe and prepare."

And while it was not the answer Hari wanted, he realized that it was - in its own way - a good answer after all.

* * *

 _Author's Notes : I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I'm not getting anywhere by staring at it. I'm in one of my creative slumps at the moment, and pretty much loathe everything I've ever written. That said, I remain firmly committed to continuing to write and post regardless. I apologize if this leads to uneven story quality, but it's the best I can manage at present. _

_I'm also posting this while completely exhausted, so my typo check may have been less thorough than usual. Please let me know if you spot any spelling or grammar problems and I'll fix them._

 _Thank you all! I'm constantly astounded by how many people are reading this story, it truly means a lot to me. I'm not sure I'd have nearly as much motivation to continue without you all._


	12. Discovery

Hari made no particular attempts to either befriend or avoid his classmates, with the result that he ended up with a fairly common circle of acquaintances in whose company he generally found himself in some combination.

These included Megan, Wayne, Leanne, Susan, Ernest - 'Ernie' - and Nereva from his own 'year' and Tamsin, Heidi (the girl who had declared at first meeting that she wished to study with him had indeed been serious,) and Herbert from the year above. The much older students made occasional attempts to curry his favour, but after he gently rebuffed the first several the efforts slowed to a trickle.

Since his muggle education had been extremely patchy, upon discovery of the Hogwarts library he quickly began filling in the gaps. Earth history in particular, and its political and social situation, occupied much of his attention. He still completed his homework assignments, detailing complex theoretical reasoning for magical feats which remained completely outside his ability, and concentrated on his lessons as best he could, but as magic continued to elude him he directed his true efforts toward his own studies instead.

History was not the only subject he pursued in his free time, of which there seemed to be considerably less since the formation of his frequently-shifting group of acquaintances. He soon ascertained that the technological state of Earth was fairly average as far as planets went, with his official residence in Privet Drive actually quite advanced for the world overall.

Earth's only exceptional property in that respect was its complete absence from the galaxy as a whole. Was it somewhere in the Unknown Regions? It would have to be, for it to have remained undiscovered for so long.

Which brought back the question of how _Hari_ ended up here to begin with? He certainly didn't have any idea, and none of his admittedly brief studies into magic had showed him any possible reason for his existence here.

But that was before he discovered the story behind his own fame.

Harry Potter, who he'd failed to initially care enough to research, had been the son of two heroes who resisted the Dark Lord Voldemort. The boy had been attacked, but survived his parents' death and the Dark Lord had been destroyed instead. Harry had then vanished from the public eye, going into 'hiding' until his emergence - Hari's emergence - at Hogwarts.

The first time he saw an image of James Potter he stared at it for a long time, faint memories of himself in holo-recordings interposing themselves in his mind. The likeness was stunning - impossible. He, Hari, had resembled this man to an unbelievable degree in his younger years.

After that particular discovery he spent another long night, deep in meditation, trying to reach the farthest depths of his physical mind, to see if any remnant of Harry remained. And, to his surprise, he found flickers of fragmented memory safely stored away it his deepest recesses.

Clear, vivid images of James and Lily Potter, as well as a group of others whose names he didn't know but who he recognized as being friends of his parents.

Murmurs of voice, the tone the only thing clear enough to understand, the person speaking always either James or Lily.

Then, clarity coming, words in scraps and fragments. And then, finally, a scene of such intense clarity that Hari nearly startled himself out of meditation.

 _No, not Harry, please no! Spare him, kill me instead, please. . . anything else, just don't touch my son!_

Cold laughter.

A burst of vibrant green. . .

. . the shade so familiar Hari almost didn't believe it.

This couldn't be. It made no logical sense in anything he knew of either world.

His own _, his own_ oldest and clearest memory, had been simply that exact shade of green light. He'd always thought it was an expression of the living Force at the moment of his birth, since no other explanation made sense.

But it was _his_ memory - _Harry's_ memory, - from before - _before?!_ \- he became a Jedi. Before he ever existed in his home galaxy, he had lived here?

The idea was shocking. He couldn't tell where exactly it had originated, it flashed into his mind all but fully formed. It just felt intuitively correct. He _was_ Harry, and Harry was Hari, and he had no idea how any of it was possible.

Especially since he'd certainly _not_ arrived back at the moment he'd left, and Harry had apparently been doing just fine without him for a decade. Especially since the Earth wasn't even connected into the web of the Force proper. The universal energy of the Force he knew so well seemed to be isolated away from Earth's own uniquely powerful version of the Force.

So how had _Hari_ come to be connected to both? To the greater galaxy, and to this one lone isolated world?

He spent the whole night in contemplation, but though he concluded several new things about his present situation and how he ought to respond to it, nothing about his past made even a remote degree of sense.

He only roused from his meditation as Wayne and Ernie dragged him physically out of the Hufflepuff common room and into the hallway outside. Recognizing the situation, he waved their help away and straightened himself. "I was meditating," he explained, and the pair of them only shrugged and fell in beside him as they headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hari - or should it be Harry now? - wasn't sure how to deal with even a fraction of the revelations that had dawned on him. Assuming they were correct - but he _felt_ they were true, even if he could never have produced even a shred of evidence thereunto.

The discovery that he belonged here after all, that he was no mere impostor but a lost son returning after a long voyage away, spurred Hari on to greater - but still futile - efforts in his magic classes. While he continued to spend some free time studying earth customs, history, and society, he tried to set aside time each evening to practice and attempt to succeed with the shadow power that existed alongside the Force on this world.

Some days that meant reciting incantations and swinging his wand about in precise patterns. Sometimes he would sit and meditate, reaching toward the unknown with his wand as an intermediary. Other times, he would visit Nicholas Flamel and practice spells with the older man's help.

Despite his increasingly desperate attempts, magic continued to evade him. He could sense it, sometimes near, sometimes distant, around the edges of his consciousness. But unlike the Force, which pressed in against him eagerly, magic - assuming that was what he felt - skittered away from him.

The stronger and more deeply he reached for it, the faster it vanished from his perception. He felt like a hunter, sometimes, creeping up on a skittish prey as silently and cautiously as he could. His meditations on magic went longer and longer, more and more frequently he was brought sharply out of them by his classmates' concern.

He tried to reassure them that he was only meditating, and that it would help him do magic better (at all) in the future, but their continued concern was both touching and a bit irritating. Nereva particularly seemed to have taken a liking to him, she was there much more frequently than the others. Hari didn't know how to react to this, and continued his somewhat distant friendliness with her as with his other fellow younglings

Flying lessons turned out much better than Hari could have hoped. While he had anticipated difficulty in controlling the brooms, apparently they required magic in such a passive way that even his complete inability to cast spells was no barrier.

And, he quickly found, he was quite good at it. Speeders had a few advantages over broomsticks, but they were a surprisingly close analog. Though he supposed it made sense; he'd proven quite capable in potions as well, which required more ambient magic than focused or directed.

Yet another proof that this was, somehow, where he belonged. Why magic itself pulled away from him, why his wand constantly exuded that sense of incompleteness, he still had no answers.


	13. Rescue

"Master Binns. I have an unusual question for you."

The spirit paused midway through the blackboard. "How unusual?"

"Has there been any historical precedent of a person's soul returning to them after a long time somewhere else?"

Master Binns turned and floated back toward Hari. "Historically, soul-related magic is the darkest and most forbidden art. I do hope you're not planning anything _dark_ -"

"No, certainly not. I'm trying to understand the events which took place on the night You-Know-Who attacked me. Whatever happened that night sent my soul away from this body and into another part of the galaxy entirely, where I lived considerably longer than the eight or so Earth-years that had passed here upon my return."

Master Binns adjusted his ghostly spectacles and floated still nearer to Hari. "Indeed? You claim to have been absent your body for _years_ , and yet suffered no ill effects?"

"I have no clear memories of what happened here while I was away, but clearly _something_ happened. I was in a fully ordinary situation, with people acting as though _Harry_ had been here all along without me. Nothing in my home galaxy - er, where I lived longest that is - can explain it. I was hoping you'd know."

Master Binns peered at Hari very closely indeed, then shook his head slowly. "I can't think of anything. But you do present a fascinating narrative. If there's an answer to be found, rest assured that I shall seek it out."

Hari bowed. "Thank you, Master Binns. I trust your ability to research far better than my own. I've only been on this world a few months."

Master Binns chuckled and shook his head. "I still find it hard to credit. But I prefer to assume people aren't mad. Simpler explanations are so much less interesting, and one finds the most obscure facts when searching for esoteric answers."

* * *

Hari hurried from the lecture hall as Master Binns vanished through the wall, but though he ran the whole way, he arrived late to Transfiguration. This earned him a stern look from Master McGonagall, but she didn't pause in her lecture.

He found a seat, ignoring the other students' looks, and opened his textbook.

* * *

After dinner, Hari decided to visit Master Flamel again and ask the same of him. The more people he had looking for answers, the better chance they had of finding them.

He tapped on Master Flamel's door, but only silence and echoes replied. He knocked again, before remembering that he had Alchemy classes today. Of course, he wouldn't be in his rooms, he'd be teaching.

Hari returned to the common room instead, and was immediately assaulted by Nereva.

"Hari! You're back! I need your help." She grabbed his arm, looking unusually flustered - almost frantic. He'd never seen the usually timid girl in such a state.

"What's wrong?"

She blushed suddenly, looking away and not meeting Hari's eyes. "It's Ernie. He's decided to sneak out."

"Why?" Hari had observed that the MacMillian boy was more reckless than most other Hufflepuffs, but sneaking out of the castle at night was well beyond the usual for first year students. Or anyone below NEWT levels, really.

"I think he was talking to that Ravenclaw boy from Potions," Nereva mumbled, blushing even brighter.

Hari sighed. "'Rave, I can't help him if you don't trust me with everything you know. It might be important."

"Well, he was _definitely_ talking to that Ravenclaw boy from potions, then," Nereva said, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"About?" Hari prompted gently, when it became clear she wasn't going to continue.

"The Forbidden Forest," she whispered. "I know the upper years talk about it all the time, but. . . It's really dangerous. I don't want him out there alone. You're good at talking to people, can you convince him to come back and not try again?"

If he'd trusted the Force here not to overreact, he could have easily persuaded Ernie to return and feel no desire to rush into danger again, but he didn't like the idea of using the Force on the minds of younglings when even the slightest application of power magnified itself far out of proportion.

"I can try, but some people can never be turned from their intended path regardless of words."

 _Now_ Nereva looked up at him. "Please, Hari, if he'll listen to anyone, he'll listen to you."

"I'll do whatever I can. Do you know where he is?"

She shook her head. "He left a few minutes ago. I'm sure he's outside by now. He's always bragging about how his family knows secret ways past the walls. I'd always thought he was just making it up, but now-" Nereva seemed on the verge of tears.

"Thank you for trusting me," said Hari, in his calmest most reassuring voice. "I'll find him."

He paused only long enough to toss his school things in the general direction of his bed, then hurried back out into the castle.

Hari knew only one way out of the castle that wouldn't be watched by prefects or teachers. In his explorations down a dusty and forgotten hall, he'd found a door sealed with a rusted lock and hinges that clearly hadn't been used in centuries. Its window overlooked a small garden, the one set aside for NEWT student projects, from what he could tell.

And that garden was enclosed only with a gate and low wall. Hari knew several species who could jump that unassisted, and with the Force even the most unathletic Jedi could easily accomplish the same.

He moved cautiously down halls and up stairways, listening at each corner before proceeding, unable to rely on the Force to sense others' locations as he'd have done in the past. It took frustrating minutes to traverse the castle unnoticed, but he finally arrived at the little door in its forgotten corridor.

He shattered the lock with a quick burst of (too strong) Force, sending pieces of rusty metal flying in all directions. He ducked just on time, evading the dangerous shards as they clattered off the walls all around him. He threw his weight against the door. It opened only a few inches, sending an abominable screech of rusty hinges echoing down the hall behind him. Far too small a gap for him to fit out, and now he had only moments before someone would surely come investigate.

Hari reached out and slammed Force into the door, sending it open another several inches - with another echoing screech, plus the muted sound of cracking pottery. But now it was wide enough for him to squeeze out.

A patch of orange plants vaguely resembling seaweed hissed violently and reached its rounded branches toward Hari the moment he stepped into the garden. One pot left in front of the door had fallen to its side and broken in his exit, spilling soil and what looked suspiciously like lumpy green eggs with claws slowly poking through.

He pushed Force out behind him to close the door, successfully if noisily, but he didn't hold out much hope that his escape route would remain unnoticed. He'd probably not be able to escape this way again. He hoped he'd not need to, but protecting Ernie was more important than keeping one exit held in reserve.

He took off at a sprint, dodging flailing tendrils and grasping petals as the student project plants awakened at his presence. One set off a bright pink cloud of glowing spores which twisted sinuously through the air as they drifted toward him. He evaded these, feeling oddly unwell at the sight of them. Another plant uprooted itself and began crawling slowly toward him, reaching out with thin creaking root strands and emitting a horrible groaning sound.

Hari pushed himself into a leap, only to have his progress arrested by something grasping at his robes. A vibrantly yellow plant wormed its dozens of thread-thin vines further through his clothing, dragging him from the air before he gained enough momentum to break free. He collided painfully with the ground and lay a moment gasping for breath, unable to raise a Force protection on time. The plant continued to weave through his robe, dragging him slowly nearer.

Hari flipped over onto his back. No plant was going to defeat him. He didn't want to ruin anyone's project, but as he slid nearer to the ominously pulsating orange core which seemed to be expanding and contracting in ever-quickening bursts eerily similar to an eagerly beating heart, Hari decided now wasn't the time for hesitation.

He burst into action, grabbing handfuls of the plan's tendrils he ripped them free of his robes. Some slid away easily, others clung hard enough that they broke off or ripped gashes into his clothing before coming free. He scrambled to his feet and backed away.

The plant's core turned from orange to brilliant red, its tendrils retracting even as the heart of it swelled to easily twice its size, nearing the width of Hari's torso, pulsating wildly as it continued to expand.

Hari didn't stick around to see what it would do next. He turned and ran, catching a briefly nauseating glimpse of the glowing pink spores still drifting slowly towards him. He sprinted past them, dodged around a tightly-closed flowerbud nearly as tall as himself, and jumped.

Or tried to. One foot didn't leave the ground. Hari stumbled and toppled forward, but this time he absorbed his impact and twisted to the side just enough to avoid any injury.

He'd stepped on small flat purple mushroom he'd not noticed before, and his shoe stuck. And now he was lying on several more of them, as he discovered while trying to stand.

But though the natural adhesive was strong enough to break his sprint and keep him from standing, it didn't hold very long. Even as he struggled, the first fungus began unpeeling from his foot, returning slowly to its initial upright state and looking somewhat flatter on the top. He squirmed about and carefully pulled his cloak free as the other shrooms relaxed back to their default states.

He glanced behind him, catching a full disorienting faceful of pink spores. He gasped in a startled, involuntary breath and wobbled dizzily a moment, stomach squirming uncomfortably. Something itched in his throat, initiating a violent coughing fit as more and more pink drifted toward him.

"No you don't," he growled between coughs, pushing outward with the Force. The remaining spores dispersed, scattered and flung well away by his push, but he could do nothing for what he'd already inhaled.

Hopefully it wasn't too dangerous. He'd wasted far too much time here already. He _had_ to find Ernie before something like _this_ happened to him. Hari held his breath, forcing himself to stop coughing by sheer willpower though his body screamed at him to eject the intrusion - he could meditate and purge the drifting spores coating his lungs after completing his mission, but he'd accomplish nothing if he was caught and forced to fight free or delay by explaining himself.

Across the garden, the pulsating red plant now glowed bright enough to cast the whole garden in crimson light. It had continued swelling, now over half Hari's size, and he could see the faint yellow of its tendrils wriggling about inside the translucent and bulbous center. The sight set off his pink-spore induced nausea again. He doubled over, barely able to hold himself from coughing or retching, trembling all over.

He'd met some dangerous plants in his lifetime, but nothing like these. No wonder the door was locked and neglected. Who would _want_ to come in here?

Forcing himself to ignore the itch in his throat and lungs, Hari steadied himself and jumped straight up without giving the plants another chance to stop him. He propelled himself far above their reach, soaring high over the low wall and landing safely behind Greenhouse 8. From there it was a quick jog around the outbuildings and across the field toward the forest.

He instinctively reached out through the Force, searching for a trace of Ernie. But as usual, the boy didn't register in Harry's senses. He only felt Sev, chasing a snake through the dungeons, and Master Binns, sitting in the library with a levitating book held before his face.

But then, there _was_ something else. Something familiar, but elusive.

Something he'd felt once before, or more than once?

He couldn't remember if it had been more.

He almost forgot his purpose, stood for a long moment with his breath held, straining to hear what echoed so faintly, almost imperceptibly from. . . somewhere.

Only a sudden shock of light, the moon emerging from behind a cloud, snapped his attention back to the present.

Ernie. Forest. Rescue.

Hari shook himself out of the trance, triggering another bout of coughing before he regained control of himself. He resumed walking briskly toward the forest. Enough students traversed the grounds regularly enough that there was no clear trail to follow, no obvious signs that could distinguish Ernie's passage from anyone else's. There wasn't much to see. The moonlight was bright enough for Hari to avoid obstacles, but not enough to illuminate the path clearly. To find tracks, even if they'd been present, would have required long pauses to search. Hari's urgency wouldn't allow him to delay.

Once he reached the forest, the depth and shadows made the moonlight even fainter and the path - if there was one - indiscernible.

He listened as he hurried onward, trying to discern from physical clues what the Force couldn't show him here. But though he'd learned much about Earth creatures and their behavior in his studies, he'd never visited the forest and his time outdoors had been largely during the morning or daytime. Evening sounds were unfamiliar to him; he couldn't tell what was out of place.

Until, finally, he caught sight of a bobbing light in the distance, vanishing behind trees and reappearing in the thin gaps. It moved far more slowly than Hari, so he closed the gap between them easily. As he drew closer he heard excited whispering and slowed to listen. He couldn't make out the words, but there were two voices. So Ernie wasn't the only one to have sneaked out.

Hari sighed. Life was much simpler when one didn't have to deal with younglings. He hurried forward, wishing his legs were long enough that he could stride confidently rather than scrambling in such an undignified manner to clamber over rocks and branches that blocked his way. He was far from any path in a forest left largely untended.

Before he'd closed the distance enough to hear the voices clearly, one of them made a sharp 'shh!' and the light went out at the same moment. Hari froze, listening as well. He didn't think he'd made a sound, at least nothing discernable at that distance when they were talking. He looked around, shifting slightly to get a better view behind him. Nothing.

Then a sharp _snap!_ echoed from off to his left, immediately followed by what sounded like gurgling, hissing laughter from the right.

"Lumos!" called a trembling voice. Light flared up. Ernie spun around and leveled his glowing wand at the sounds, but didn't illuminate anything but trees.

Hari didn't need a warning from the Force to tell him they were in danger, even if it had been able to offer one here. He allowed the power to crash into him, drawing it in to speed his movements as he rushed forward, regardless of the noise, to reach the younglings' side. He may not have a lightsaber, but he could still protect them far better than their weak untrained magic.

"Hari! Thank Merlin you're here." Ernie's relief lasted only a moment, replaced almost at once by suspicion. "Wait, why are you here? Did you follow me?"

"No time for that. The castle's back that way. Go. I'll watch your backs." Hari pointed back toward where Sev's presence glowed golden in his mind. The younglings just gaped at him. The quiet, sinister laughter drew nearer.

"Stop staring and _run_!" Hari gave them a little push with the Force to get them started, forgetting in the chaos of the moment to be quite as restrained.

Ernie stumbled forward, then broke into a run. The other boy - who he recognized now as, indeed 'that boy from Ravenclaw,' Roger Malone - didn't recover as quickly; he lost his balance completely and Hari's push sent him flying, plowing face-first into the forest floor.

Hari winced in sympathy, but before he could make a move to help the other boy to his feet, something white and sticky spun out from above and slapped Hari across the face. He instinctively grabbed at it to rip away, but his hand stuck as well. Typical.

"Get up, follow Ernie out of here," he ordered as best he could around the obstruction half-sealing his lips. "Hurry!"

Another strand shot out, and this time Roger didn't stay frozen; fear and pain galvanized him into action. The boy scrambled to his feet just in time to keep ahead of the sticky attack. Finally heeding Hari's warning, he ran after the bobbing light of Ernie's wand not looking back once.

Mission accomplished, younglings rescued.

Now all that remained was for Hari to make his own escape.

* * *

 _Author's Note_ _:_

 _A hundred apologies for the long delay. Life conspired to steal writing from me for a time, but I'm back now. This is only the first half of the planned update, but it was getting big enough and taking so long that I figured better to split it and update twice in two weeks than leave y'all waiting any more than necessary._

 _Again, thank you all for the support, patience, and follows/favs/reviews! Don't forget, you can always check my profile for the most up-to-date information on what I'm writing and when I plan to release new chapters. (The next one should really truly actually be ready next week, barring terrible disasters. It's already half-done as of posting this and progress these days has been finally happening steadily.)_


	14. Entanglement

Hari watched Roger's retreating form until he was no longer visible between the dark tree trunks, relieved that he'd accomplished his primary mission here. Then he turned his attention upward to his captor.

A giant spider descended toward him in the dim moonlight, blocking out more and more of the sky with its massive bulk, whispering and gurgling with laughter as it drew nearer. More and more strands of sticky webbing flew in all directions as it built a wide cage around Hari with incredible speed and precision. Even if he'd been able to break free of the one strand holding him, now he had nowhere to run.

More than ever, he wished for his lightsaber. Nothing physical had survived his trip from his home somewhere across the galaxy. (Was it wrong to still consider that his home?) Once summer vacation came around again, he resolved to go on a quest to find a suitable crystal and construct himself a new one. He knew he'd never feel comfortable until the one weapon and tool of the Jedi Order once again rested at his side.

For now, though, he dangled on one end of a spider's rope, one hand restricted along with his face and chest, the other hand and both feet free to move. He tested, jumping lightly off the ground. The strand held his weight without snapping, and tugged painfully at his face until he tightened his grip to take more of the weight.

His robes were no help, just getting bunched up around his neck in the attempt. He shivered in the wind, now unobstructed against his lower legs, then spasmed with the urge to cough violently as his faster breathing exacerbated the irritant spores in his throat and lungs.

This was _not_ how he'd imagined the evening going.

Frustration tried to consume him, and darkside techniques he'd heard of in his many years of study suddenly resurfaced in the front of his mind. Crushing, stunning, or electrical attacks foremost among them, so commonplace among Sith and fallen Jedi. The Force could do so much more than defend; it could destroy.

And here, with power so strong but so quiet, he didn't even sense any whisper of resistance telling him there was a better way. Neither the lure of the dark nor the quiet assurance of the light remained to him, only that vast empty power, pushing at him as though pleading to be used for anything at all.

He looked up again at the slowly descending spider, easily three times as wide as he was tall. So vast it could crush him with ease.

He could stop it. Fry it before it reached him, throw it off to the side with a wave. It would be simple, quick, efficient.

He raised one hand, feeling the Force gather within and around him. Its ever-present desire to _do something_ mixed with his own impatience, urging him to just finish this.

There was nothing Dark in protecting your life and that of two younglings. It was only a beast, after all.

Or was it?

It laughed again, and he lowered his hand. A Jedi didn't attack unless there was no other path forward, and he hadn't even tried to negotiate yet. If snakes were sentient here, why not spiders?

"Please stop," said Hari as firmly as possible with his mouth still half-covered by insanely sticky webbing. "I apologize if I've intruded into your lands. I was only here to escort two younglings home."

"They'll be just fine," whispered the spider, lowering itself still closer. "And you'll be just mine."

Hari could almost reach up and touch it now, if he'd wanted. He didn't want to. He closed his eyes instead and tried to calm his thoughts.

It was difficult, everything in him screaming to act, not meditate. He struggled against his own immediate peril, the urgent desperation of the overactive Force that surrounded and suffused him, and the nagging worry that the spider had allies who could outrun the two younglings and capture them while Hari himself stood here helpless.

But though he may not remember every detail of his past any longer, some habits couldn't be so easily abandoned. Between one heartbeat and the next, he released his worries and forced his body to relax.

Then he laughed, a startled sound of relief that burst from him before he could control it. He'd spent so long being careful, he'd forgotten. _Actually forgotten_ the obvious solution to this problem.

He tilted his head up to look the spider in its many eyes, then slowly drew his free hand across its vision. "You want to release me at once and return home without harming anyone."

The spider ceased its descent, freezing in place as Hari's mind trick slammed into its consciousness. Amplified as it was by the wild, unguided Force, the mental push knocked it out completely. It went limp and hung there, legs relaxing to drape far too close for Hari's comfort.

He waited a moment, but the spider gave no indication of waking to free him. Which was fine. He could find his own way out. He closed his eyes again and concentrated; feeling with his trapped hand the texture and fiber of the sticky webbing, examining how it trapped him. He saw the answer almost at once. With a quick burst of Force at just the right angle, slipping upward between his body and the sticky threads, he slid free of the web.

And then heard more hissing and clicking above him, all around the little enclosed arena the creature had built.

Hari wished again for his lightsaber. In addition to being a weapon, it would have provided a solid beam of light sufficient to illuminate the area; where and how many his enemies were would be very useful information.

He could probably have broken through the strands given time, but he didn't want to mess around with them while unknown adversaries closed in. That left only one way out - up. The spider hadn't sealed the area behind itself.

Hari scooped up handfuls of leaves, using some to blunt the stickiness of the strand dangling beside him and stuffing his pockets. Once it was sufficiently covered, he grabbed hold and pushed off with a burst of Force, sending him in a wide upward arc around the unconscious spider's bulk. He twisted in midair, released the strand and landed safely atop the massive, bulbous creature.

No time to hesitate. He continued plastering the web with leaves to form a slick non-sticky surface which he could climb.

But he wasn't the only one climbing the line. As he scurried upward, the thread began quivering under the weight of something else coming down it.

Hari glanced upward. It was a relatively small spider - maybe half his height - but instead of the hairy brown-black of the one below him, this one was pale-bright and smooth. It seemed almost to glow in the faint moonlight.

Clinging to his perch with one hand, Hari repeated his motion with the other. "You don't want to hurt me. We can go our separate ways in peace."

His voice came out hoarse and rough, sending him into another coughing fit which he barely managed to reign in through sheer willpower. His throat could wait; his immediate survival was more important.

This spider didn't seem to notice his attempt at mental manipulation. It continued descending with slow precision, watching Hari silently as it drew closer.

Hari was almost to the height of the web-cage by now. With the right jump, he could probably make it out - if he had something better to brace against than this hanging strand of spiderweb. He wouldn't be able to focus on making multiple Force adjustments to his flight path as well as fending off the inevitable attacks from the spiders around him at the same time.

But he couldn't climb much higher either, with his way forward blocked by this pale smooth stalker.

Before he could make up his mind what to do, the spider stopped, just out of reach, and spoke. "Who are you? You are different than the others."

"So are you," Hari replied without thinking.

The spider laughed, its voice more a whisper and less a gurgle than the others' had been. "Yes, I am. Why are you here?"

"I was just leaving, actually. I really should be getting back to the castle before anyone raises the alarm and they send a rescue party after me."

"You wouldn't leave so soon, not after my cousins brought me all this way just to meet you."

"To meet me?" Hari felt a jump of excitement. He stretched out through the Force, trying to see if this strange spider might be the presence he thought he'd sensed in the forest. But though he did find that distant thread more easily here than back at the castle or on the train, he didn't feel like it belonged to the creature standing above him. "Why?"

"There are rumors about you, passed from web to web. I wanted to see for myself."

"What kind of rumors could there possibly be about me? I haven't done anything yet."

"Our enemy is stirring, your enemy is gaining in strength. It seems only natural that we should ally ourselves together. Don't you agree?"

"I don't have any enemies yet," Hari answered without thinking.

Then he remembered. _Here_ , he did have an enemy. As a child, he'd banished the Dark Lord at the height of his rise. That very confrontation had indirectly been responsible for all he now was. However it had worked.

The spider clicked its mandibles, a disapproving sound. "The strong always have enemies."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"Denying reality doesn't change the truth of it."

"What do you want from me?" asked Hari.

"I would make a pact with you. If you will aid us when the time comes, then you shall have safe passage through our territory from this day onward." Disgruntled whispers and gurgles surrounded them, so the white spider added, "For yourself alone; we still must eat."

"What is this enemy? I want to help you, but I can't promise to drop everything and rush to your defence if there are more urgent matters. And you seem more capable of protecting yourself than most beings I've met here. I can't prioritize your safety over others."

The spider hissed, though whether in displeasure or laughter Hari couldn't tell. "We do not speak its name, but our enemy is no friend to humans either. Your own people will be in as much danger as we if she rises. We ask that you destroy her, that is all; and we will leave you be wherever you pass within our forest."

"I won't promise to kill someone I haven't even met. I can give you my word that, so long as it doesn't interfere with my other duties, I will do my utmost to prevent her harming you. I will talk to her, try to come to an agreement, and if she is unreasonable and continues to seek death without cause, then I will stand between you and her with what strength I possess."

The spiders hissed and clicked for several minutes, consulting with each other, then the white spider ascended a few steps up the strand of webbing. The motion reminded Hari of how tired his arms were; hanging onto a rope during an entire conversation wasn't as easy in his new younger and weaker body as it had once been.

"Very well. We agree to the terms of your pact. Let it be known that this one is not to be harmed by us or any of our kin so long as he does not violate our trust and remains true to his word."

Clicking and rustling sounds followed this proclamation. Then, too quickly for Hari to make out individual movements, the white spider jumped down and set about dismantling the webs that surrounded him on all sides, clearing a path out.

Hari leaped off the strand and landed lightly on the ground, but he felt vaguely dissatisfied with the transaction. It seemed like the perfect arrangement, ideally suited to his own nature. Why would another being independently suggest something like that to a child? They knew nothing about him, had no way of knowing his true power, so what prompted their offer?

The web dismantled, the spiders had already dispersed. He heard only the faintest rustling of their passage as they hurried back to wherever they'd gathered from. It was too late to ask for clarification; he'd missed his chance.

Still, everything had worked out well. He was alive, the younglings were alive, and he'd be able to come and go freely without being mobbed by giant spiders. However uneasy he remained with the evening's events, he couldn't deny the outcome was a good one.

He reached out to the Force, letting the golden-bright feeling of Sev's brilliantly alive spirit guide him back to the castle; his own compass through the night.

Behind him, in the forest, the sense of something else remained. The vague unreachable unknown brushed against his mind, vanishing before he could grasp it, flickering in and out of his mental perception, then faded away completely.

Hari didn't quite reach the castle before he collapsed.

He didn't remember falling.

* * *

He woke with an aching head, bruised shoulder, and a vile rancid taste in his mouth. But he lay in relative comfort, in what he now recognized as the hospital wing, and the incessant scratchy irritation of the plant spores in his throat were gone. He'd spent less than an hour with them present, which in no way lessened his relief at their absence.

"You alright there, 'arry?" Hagrid sat at the foot of his bed with a concerned expression on his hairy face.

"Yes, I feel quite well."

The huge man sighed with relief. "I worried, when Fang found you passed out in the grounds. Yer lucky we were nearby, or who knows how long you'da been there."

"I had a close encounter with an experimental plant."

"Yeah, Poppy said as much." Hagrid cleared his throat and chuckled before continuing in a more serious tone. "Are. . . you doin' alright, Harry?"

"Of course."

"It's jus'. . . for a Hufflepuff, you don't seem as close to anyone as I'd've expected."

"You're not the only one to think so. It's alright, I'm simply not as social as most Hufflepuffs. I prefer quiet over clamor, reasoned discussion over emotional outbursts."

Hagrid chuckled and shook his head. "Sounds like a Ravenclaw attitude if ya ask me."

"Perhaps. I would argue that the house divisions are often exaggerated into caricatures, rather than treated as they are - simply divisions. There is no such thing as a typical Hufflepuff, because there's no such thing as a typical person. We are each unique in some ways, and exactly alike in others."

Hagrid beamed. "You so remind me of Lily. If you say you're doin' good, then I believe ya. Yer always welcome to come by me place for tea, if you find yerself wanting company."

"Thank you. I'll do that."

Madame Pomfrey came in then, and Hagrid stood to go. He waved on his way out, smiling wider than Hari would have thought possible. He couldn't help returning the smile; Hagrid's cheeriness was infectious.

* * *

The healer spent half an hour checking Hari over, having him breathe slowly in and out, checking his throat, running her wand across his chest and back while muttering analysis and diagnostic spells. Once satisfied, she dismissed him with orders to return immediately if he felt any returning symptoms. He also heard her grumbling under her breath about idiotic students and dangerous plants.

He exited into mid-afternoon light. He'd been unconscious through Astronomy at midnight, and missed all the morning classes. If he hurried, he'd be on time for the shared Magical Theory class with Slytherin, but he found the class increasingly worthless as time went on.

Nothing in the theory explained why he failed to accomplish anything with magic, and it held little interest as a purely intellectual study due to its extremely limited scope. He could quote and analyze theory at a level far beyond where the class had reached already, while falling ever farther behind in practical applications thereof.

He returned to his bedroom to meditate instead. His trip into the forest had given him much to consider, and he doubted anyone would contest that he needed rest after his adventure.

* * *

 _Author's Notes :_

 _Look at that, I finally managed an update on time for once! Mark this day down on stone tablets or something, because it's probably just a fluke._ _Once again, thank you for the support and encouragement. The reaction to this story has been so far beyond anything I ever expected, I'm incredibly grateful for you all! Ever new follower, favourite, or review makes me so happy. :) I'm excited for this story, and I'm glad so many of you are on board as well. Hope you enjoy the ride, bumpy and haphazard though it may be. ;)_

 _My chapter updates for the next couple weeks will be for Shadow of the Past (HP) and Double Blind (KotOR), but I sincerely hope that I won't have to leave Jedi of Little Whinging quite as long without posting. I'm tentatively planning to get a new chapter out next month, but I'm in a transitional section and I don't want to rush it if it doesn't seem to flow right. __Remember, the most recent information about update plans will always be in my profile._

 _If you have questions or comments, critique or criticism or noticed a typo, you're more than welcome to send me a message or drop a quick review. I love seeing what y'all think, positive or critical.  
_

 _P.S. I've been thinking a lot about the SW-verse prequel series that takes place prior to this story, in Hari's life as a Jedi. Should I start working on it side-by-side with JoLW? Or wait until finishing this to start the other? I feel like either could work well._

 _P.P.S. I don't know if 'throat' is actually the right term for what you breathe through? Or if it's important enough to matter?_


	15. Complications

When Hari reached the common room, he found it not empty as he'd assumed. Though class was in session, several older Hufflepuffs sat around the room, some playing or laughing, others with books spread about them.

Before he could slip away to his room, two older girls stood up in unison and approached him.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry!" the shorter one said dramatically, looking Hari up and down. "I was the last one out, I could have sworn I locked the gate."

"And it was my experimental puffseed you ran afoul of," the other girl said. "I mean, you're still a complete idiot, going into restricted gardens in the middle of the night, but I still feel bad about what happened."

"It was entirely my fault, I assure you," Hari replied, bowing. "I thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary. I hold no ill will against either of you; any injury can only be blamed on myself. I should not have ventured into the garden unprepared. Had I been more attentive, it would never have been an issue."

"I wonder, do you mind if I cast a few spells on you?" the taller girl asked hesitantly. "I'm very curious to know if there's any lingering effect. That was a particularly potent cross, and it's possible some survived."

Hari shrugged. "If you wish, go ahead."

The girl murmured a spell at once, twisting her wand through complicated motions, then pointed it at Hari. Pink light illuminated him for a brief moment. The girl frowned as it faded. "Looks like some of it absorbed into your bloodstream. Have you noticed any side effects?"

"Not yet. I haven't been up long, and I am tired."

"Come on, Zo," the other girl said, tugging her sleeve.

"In a minute," Zo muttered. She cast a second spell over Hari, this one pale white and flickering like frozen flame. He flinched instinctively as it touched him, but there was no sensation to the translucent threads of fire.

"Interesting," she muttered. Then, as the other girl's tugging grew more insistent, she flashed Hari a brief grin. "Thanks! This will be very helpful. It's fascinating to observe, you're actually the first—"

She cut off as the other girl, apparently losing patience, physically dragged her away.

"I'll see you around!" she called after Hari with a little wave, before turning to continue talking excitedly to her friend.

Hari sighed. One more thing to worry about.

His meditation was not nearly as restful as he'd hoped.

* * *

 _Hari dreamed of fire._

 _It grew like a tree from the top of a lone mountain, branching up into a twisting trunk and spreading out into myriad flaming leaves. It flailed and shuddered as though in a heavy wind. It took Hari a moment to realize why._

 _Tiny and green with life, a vine coiled around the fiery tree, struggling to reach upward beyond the branches that twisted to knock it down._

 _Both wanted to grow upward, but the battle between them meant that neither grew taller. They only fought. Branches hissed to steam as they slashed at the vine; shoots withered to ash as they battered at the tree._

 _Hari wanted to scream for them to stop. If they would just work together they could both reach the sky. __But he had no voice here._

 _He could only watch the eternal futility of their unending conflict._

* * *

The first thing Hari saw upon leaving his room the next morning was a swiftly-moving girl hurling herself at him, wide-eyed with concern.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! But, thank you. Are you doing alright?"

Hari extracted himself gently from Nereva's arms. For a usually-timid girl, she could get very excitable at times. "I'm fine, Rave. And so is Ernie, I see?"

Ernie, sitting at a low table surrounded by fellow first-years, startled at the sound of his name. When he saw Hari, he smiled and waved. "Harry! You're okay!"

"Yes, I am. And you made it back in one piece." Hari made his way over to the table and found an empty seat. "How's Roger?"

Ernie grimaced. "He scraped himself up pretty good on the way back. All fixed now of course, but he got a howler from his mum. I'm not sure he'll be himself again for a week."

"Howler?"

"One of the worst punishments possible. The one weapon parents have against us, and an effective one at that. To hear your actions publicly denounced is bad enough, but Mrs. Malone went even farther." Ernie shuddered. "I'm just glad my own mum is a more understanding sort."

"It's his own stupid fault," Tamsin said. She and Heidi were tossing a quaffle back and forth across the room as she spoke. "Only a Ravenclaw would tell his _muggle parents_ how to send howlers."

"I just feel bad for him," Ernie said, giving the older girl a glare. "He didn't know any better."

"Still stupid."

"Drop it, Tam," muttered Heidi.

Tamsin obligingly fumbled the quaffle. It bounced away at an angle, landing in the lap of a fourth year who wrapped an arm around it before it could roll away.

Tamsin grinned. Nereva giggled.

Heidi sighed. "Tam. Be nice."

Tamsin shrugged, unapologetic. "Sure. C'mon Preece, toss it back."

The fourth year tossed the quaffle in the air, then caught it again without looking up from his book.

"Show off." Heidi switched her glower to him, hands on her hips.

Hari tuned out the older students' banter as Sev ran up and bounced into his lap, purring loudly and rubbing his head against Hari's chest. He smiled and stroked his cat's silky soft fur. Sev had grown considerably during his time in the castle, but so far had become no less energetic.

He didn't wait around long; as soon as he felt Hari had petted him sufficiently, the golden-furred cat jumped down and raced off around the common room as though in pursuit of an invisible mouse, vanishing from sight beneath an overstuffed sofa.

Nereva, who'd seated herself beside Hari, grinned as she watched the cat's antics. Sev wasn't the only cat in the Hufflepuff common room, but he was the youngest. A few of the older students seemed irritated by the kitten's antics, but Hari had instructed him firmly to remain off tables with papers, so no one had cause to actually complain.

His Force bond with Sev remained a constant source of joy in an otherwise mundane existence. When a thousand little things each day conspired to draw Hari's spirits lower and lower, it took only a few moments feeling the brilliant vibrancy of Sev's presence to remind him of his deeper purpose.

Beneath each tedious class, beyond each slog through books taking a hundred pages to say what should have been conveyed in twenty, and behind each frustratingly imprecise social interaction, that purpose remained unshakable. And as much as he felt some days that everything he did would prove pointless, that the Force was as useless to everyone else as magic was to him, his success with Sev, however accidental and unrepeatable, proved that it wasn't just an impossible dream.

* * *

Hari sat before a bubbling cauldron, stirring it just so. Potions was the one class - the only class - that he actually excelled in. Careful movements, exact measurements, precise directions. It fit him perfectly. And since there was no wand-waving, no word-chanting or particular power usage involved, Hari's passive genetic affinity for 'magic' was enough.

It didn't prevent him from loathing his teacher. Master Snape was unrelentingly critical of Hari, no matter how perfectly he performed. His grades hovered around passable despite his well above average performance.

He added powdered fireseed to his cauldron in careful pinches, scattering the powder across the surface. It melted as it came in contact with the liquid, spreading out until the whole surface was covered in a thin blue-white film.

"Turn it down to low," he instructed Nereva, and his partner nodded. The potion would simmer beneath its skin until the fireseed dissolved completely, at which point it should be stirred eighteen times clockwise and the valerian added.

Hari took out the valerian root and began carefully shredding it for the next steps. Nereva joined him in preparing the valerian. It was the final step, and should-

"Sev!" Hari exclaimed, leaping to his feet. His cat was tearing through the castle, apparently frantic. He couldn't tell what had happened, but Hari got a distinct mental image of fear and pain.

Master Snape froze, then turned slowly to glare at Hari.

"Sit _down_ Mr. Potter, or you will fail this class."

"It's my cat, sir. Something scared him."

"Your cat isn't here," Master Snape pointed out, his voice soft and deadly.

"We're mentally linked," Hari said. He waved a hand, drawing in the Force and opening the classroom door. Sev charged in, fur bristling, tail three times its usual size, and leapt for Hari. Hari caught him in the Force and held him gently against his chest, reaching out to sooth his emotions. Sev meowled piteously, sounding desperate and angry. Hari wished he could communicate more clearly, but however intelligent, cats were not sentient and his bond only allowed him to sense emotions. There was no way to use words. No way to see what Sev had found to set him off.

"You named your cat _Sev_?" Master Snape demanded, as though this were a personal affront.

"His full name is Toretin Severill the Third, but I call him Sev." _Just like his namesake._ Hari again felt a pang of loneliness at the reminder, however vague, of his friend.

"Have you considered calling it Tore instead? It certainly knows how to move quickly enough to warrant the name."

Hari scowled. He didn't answer, only continued his careful stroking of Sev's silky fur, which was just beginning to lie down again. The cat yowled again and hissed in Master Snape's direction.

The Potions master sneered in response. "Regardless, you and your beast are disrupting my class. Take it away now, and do not bring it in again."

Hari sighed, but it was true that a number - a large number - of students had stopped working to watch. Hari glanced back at his nearly-complete potion.

"You can finish without me?"

Nereva nodded.

"Alright. See you later."

Holding Sev carefully in one arm, Hari gathered his bag and left the classroom. Reaching through the Force, he tried to see if he could catch any traces of whatever Sev had found that terrified him so. The cat was usually rambunctious and fearless, playful, and hardly the sort to back down.

"What did you poke your nose into that was willing to poke back, huh?" Hari asked softly as he carried the cat back up to the ground floor of the castle.

"Mrear," Sev said, squirming in Hari's grasp. Hari let him go, and the cat jumped down to lead the way. His tail, still puffier than usual, held high.

"You certainly do recover quickly."

Sev didn't dignify that with a response, but rubbed his back against the barrel outside the Hufflepuff common room entrance waiting for Hari to open it.

"I'm coming," he said, and began tapping his wand against the barrel. Thankfully, this was another task for which actual use of magic was not required.

Sev promptly walked over to the fire and curled up on the rug before it, ignoring Hari's presence completely.

Hari couldn't help smiling as he headed for his room.

When he returned to his dorm, he was surprised to find the door open a crack. Something felt off. Hari wished he had his lightsaber here. He didn't think of it often, but in situations like this he felt exposed and vulnerable without it. Was there any such thing as a Kyber crystal here? Or even a lesser focus, like those from Ilum or Adega?

He snapped out of his digression and focused on the moment. With a light brush of the Force, he pushed the door open fully. The room inside seemed untouched from when he'd left in the morning. There wasn't anything amiss with the beds, his possessions were still neat, his roommates' still scattered as usual.

Then he spotted it - something out of place. A scroll of parchment, lying on his pillow. He crossed to it and picked it up.

 _Harry. We must talk. Come to the trophy room at midnight tonight. Don't let anyone know about it, or I'll be in danger._

It wasn't signed.

Hari frowned. Whoever left it had access to the castle, knew how to enter the Hufflepuff dorm, and though he was paranoid about anyone else discovering him he'd been careless enough to leave the door ajar as he left?

And who could possibly be in danger by meeting Hari? Apart from another student sneaking out, which seemed unlikely.

"Looks like we have a little mystery here," Hari murmured.

He stowed the scroll in his trunk and set about swapping out his Potions books and supplies for those of his next class. His homework scrolls went in next, neat and well-researched as ever - probably the only reason he hadn't been expelled already, with his seeming inability to perform even the weakest magic.

He gave his wand a little wave, and nothing happened. It wasn't complete. It was _wrong_ somehow. Some part of it resonated incorrectly. Though when he meditated deeply with it, he could feel the fiery song trapped within it. He knew it was powerful, and meant for him, but not as it currently was.

In the Force, it sang a quiet song of loss and mourning. And it was by this that he knew the wand was truly his, for its lament matched that of his own soul perfectly. His wand, alone among the inhabitants of the Earth, understood that something was lacking that Hari needed to repair.

And neither of them had any clue where to begin.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _I've got a good amount written, but getting scenes to fit together decently is a pain. I keep worrying I'm over-emphasizing the wrong plot threads, or that I'll forget some important setup until too late. But at present, I'm operating under the assumption that anything is better than nothing, and if it's really important I can fix it later._

 _I made up all the plants Hari encountered, so imagine my surprise when I came across an actual pink-seeded plant called almost the same thing as my own creation. I shall simply assume that the Puffseed and Puffapod are cousins. It was an experimental garden, after all._

 _(And yes, I may have given Sev the name solely to enable this scene.)_


	16. Following

Hari went to the trophy room at midnight without telling anyone else, and found no one there. He did see another scroll of parchment, tucked casually between two name plaques yet obviously out of place.

 _Well well, what a surprise. It is good to know you are honourable, I really didn't expect as much. Come to the front of greenhouse 5 by 12:30._

Hari didn't feel like it was a trap, but it was hard to be sure. It could easily be a student prank, seeking to lure him away long enough that he would be caught out of bounds. But Hari was a Jedi. If it was a trap, he'd evade it.

Exiting the castle proved more difficult than before. The halls were patrolled, and his former escape route had been sealed. This late in the year the cold weather precluded any windows being cracked, much less left open enough to slip out.

If he'd not been a Force adept, the problem of leaving the castle might have stopped the trip then and there. But closed windows can be opened, magic or no magic, with sufficient application of Force.

He dropped lightly from a second-story window in an empty classroom, reaching up to pull it closed behind him with the Force before setting off for the greenhouses.

He hadn't brought more than his robes and the midnight chill cut through the meagre layers of fabric. Since Hari hadn't anticipated going outdoors, he'd neglected to bring his cloak. He shivered as he crossed the grounds, but knew it wouldn't harm him for a good while yet.

He wasn't surprised to find yet another note pinned to the greenhouse door, but this began to irritate him.

 _Determined little fella, aren't you? You're doing good so far! Now, go to the base of the Ravenclaw tower._

It took him a few moments to work out where the Ravenclaw tower stood from the outside. He spent the time struggling to hold in a childish inclination toward anger. _There is no emotion, there is peace._

If this kept up much longer, though, he'd just forget the whole thing. He had little interest in a wild bantha chase with no end in sight.

Peeves flew overhead going the opposite direction, cackling with glee as he swooped out of sight. He didn't seem to notice Hari, who froze beside the wall at the first sign of movement, but his presence made everything suddenly appear in a different light.

Sure enough, Hari found another note at the base of Ravenclaw Tower, the same direction the poltergeist had been leaving from. This one instructed him to climb through a nearby basement window into the dungeons, along with several unkind insinuations about his ability to count.

Of course it was all a prank by Peeves. He should have realized sooner.

Only ghosts, teachers, or Hufflepuff students could have gotten into his room, and of the ghosts only Peeves (or perhaps Binns, who didn't seem the type) could have physically placed a note there. None of the Hufflepuffs would have sent him outside the castle; they could easily have simply asked for privacy and been granted it without question if they wanted to discuss anything sensitive with him. Teachers would have sent for him in a less roundabout way.

But. . .

Hari hesitated by the unlocked dungeon window. If this were a joke, he really should ignore it and return to the common room. Even if the notes were genuine, whoever it was had taken things a bit far with their flippant attitude and sending him running all throughout the castle grounds in the middle of the night. He didn't owe them anything.

He opened the window with a quick burst of Force, dropped lightly through, and pulled it closed behind him. He landed with a splash in the darkness, then waited a long moment for his eyes to adjust. It wasn't a classroom, but a disused bathroom. Dust covered the mirrors and the corners had more spiderwebs than Hari had ever seen in one place - including his trip to the forest.

Well, second most. There was that incident on. . . he forgot the planet name, but remembered the spiders vividly. Fortunately, these webs, though numerous, were occupied with only the smallest of Earth spiders. He'd had entirely too much experience with the larger varieties of late.

The floor hid beneath a dark layer of cold water which, together with the cold night, Hari really, _really_ wished he hadn't jumped into. Thankfully, it was only a few inches deep, but it was already soaked through his shoes and socks and dragging at the hem of his robes.

He missed his lightsaber. The faint moonlight from outside didn't illuminate more than the one wall opposite the high window, showing a row of sinks. Most were empty, while one sat full. A slow, regular _drip. . . drip_ was the only sound to break the silence.

If there were another note here, he couldn't see it. He sloshed through the water to the wall and followed it by feel until he reached a door. A locked door. He gave it a hefty push, with both his shoulder and the Force, and it merely clanked as though barred from outside.

"If there's anyone here, I'm willing to talk. Otherwise, I'm going to bed."

He waited for a response, but only the _drip. . . drip_ answered him. Shrugging, he re-opened the window and took a Force-enhanced leap to escape the damp, enclosed room.

It only occurred to him as he settled outside on the ground that if he had been an ordinary student without the Force, he would have been trapped in there for hours at least until someone heard his calls for help.

Anger surged through him briefly, followed by instinctive calm, and a cold determination.

Next time he set eyes on Peeves, he and the poltergeist were going to have a long talk.

* * *

As it happened, he found Peeves just after breakfast the following day. As the first-years hurried to class, the poltergeist - who seemed in a fine mood - kept slamming doors along the corridor to make them jump. Hari could only catch the faintest glimpses of his presence, as he darted in and out of walls with such speed.

He reached out to the Force, glad for once of its overwhelming strength, and grabbed Peeves by the ankle next time he turned to dart through the wall. The poltergeist squealed as Hari dragged him out into the hall and held him there.

"Ow ow ow! Let go! You've no call to do such a thing. I have rights, you know."

Hari gestured the other students to go on without him. They did so without arguing, though many cast a curious glance back at him and the ghostly figure before him.

"You left a trail of increasingly insulting notes for me to follow," Hari said once the other students were out of earshot. "Why?"

Peeves cackled. "Wasn't my idea, giving you a note. No, no, not Peevsey's idea at all. I would have smacked you in the face with it, I would have, but no. She wanted it left for you where you'd find it." He said this last in a mocking singsong.

"Who?"

He tugged in vain at the Force holding him in place, then put on an exaggerated pout. "I don't think I'm going to tell you. You're making me unhappy today, yes you are."

"And I can continue doing so for as long as it takes for you to tell me the truth," Hari said.

"You'll be late for class! Then you'll get in trouble, and it won't even be my fault!"

Hari shrugged. "I will deal with that if it occurs. Now, I am dealing with you. Who wanted you to give me a note?"

Peeves smirked, his voice full of mockery. "Myrtle. I can't imagine why she wouldn't just come to you herself. Though she is something of a weakling and a coward. Always hiding in her bathroom."

"Is that why you sent me to that locked up flooded bathroom?"

Peeves cackled, longer and louder than anyone who still needed to breathe would have ever managed. "Oh, yes! That's the one! She wanted you to come meet her in the _bathroom_ , never specified which one I should send you to! Hahahaha! Clever you never jumped in though, or you'd have been still there now."

"You would think so, wouldn't you." Hari sighed. Dealing with the poltergeist wasn't easy. "So, if you sent me on a roundabout chase to the wrong bathroom, surely you know where Myrtle actually wanted to meet?"

"No idea!" Peeves said, so brightly that Hari knew he was lying. "The castle only has a few dozen of them. I'm sure if you go shouting into each one, you'll stumble on her eventually."

"Why would anyone want to meet in a bathroom anyway? Couldn't you ask her to meet me in an empty classroom instead?"

"She never leaves," Peeves said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "She's stuck, trapped in her toilets and sinks and pipes. Silly little creature."

"So she's not a student?"

Peeves tugged dramatically on his Force-held leg. "I've told you plenty," he grumbled. "Let me go."

Hari considered a moment, then released the poltergeist. Peeves promptly chucked a portrait at Hari's head, then flew off through the wall screeching with mocking laughter.

* * *

At lunch, Hari asked if anyone had heard of a Myrtle. As it turned out, nearly everyone had.

"Moaning Myrtle, she haunts the third floor girls' toilets. The ones down the old creaky stairs, beside the picnicking ninja painting. No one goes in there out of respect."

"Respect? I just don't want to listen to her wailing."

"She's very strange. Always looks at me funny."

Hari couldn't regain control of the conversation at that point; it spiraled off into specific incidents and discussion of the exceptionally haunted nature of Hogwarts, among other topics. He finished his meal and set out, now that he had a destination.

The creaking stairway was rarely-used except as a shortcut between the fourth floor Defence and third floor Transfiguration, meaning it was mostly used by second- and third-year Ravenclaw students. Hari found the picnicking ninja, and a small 'out of order' sign on the door beside it.

He knocked gently. Immediately a great wailing started up, followed by a ghost girl with very large glasses sticking her face suspiciously out through the door.

"And what do you— oh, it's you." She smiled, relaxing enough that her whole body floated through. She fidgeted a moment, then smiled up at him even more brightly. "You got my message!"

"More or less. Peeves is not a reliable messenger."

"Oh, I know! He's so dreadful, but I told him it was very important. I hope he didn't give you too much trouble."

Hari waved away the concern. "I got the message in the end. What did you need me for?"

She suddenly grew very nervous, hesitating, retreating shyly half into the door.

"It's alright, you can ask."

"You did something," she whispered. "Something to Professor Binns, that made him. . . different. Can you. . . can you do it again? For me?"

The Force bond. Binns had regained something through their connection, taken more interest in events rather than drifting through them.

"I don't know exactly what I did or how to repeat it," Hari said, "but I'm willing to try. I can't promise it'll work. I can't guarantee what will happen if it does."

"Please do." Her voice grew faint, seseming as thin and translucent as her body. "I'm so tired of being sad and lonely and empty."

"Then come out here and stand where I can see you."

She did so, blushing transparently.

"Just stay still and try to relax." Hari closed his eyes and reached out, through the Force and the not-Force, trying to feel his way to wherever her soul stood.

In the common room, Sev pricked up his ears and turned toward Hari, then returned to chasing his tail. In the History office, Binns lost his train of thought and stared absently at the wall before resuming his reading. In the Forest, quiet voices stopped their discussion, listening. Beneath the castle, sleeping things stirred toward wakefulness.

Hari knew all of this, and paid attention to none of it.

He concentrated, more fully than he'd ever done in the past, trying to remember what he'd done with Binns and how to replicate it. Trying to find who this girl was who stood before him, to draw her out of her lonely world and into the Force. He reached and searched, but for all his attention he found no solution.

Finally, as back in the great hall students began hurrying to classes, as Binns closed his book and prepared for his lecture, as sleeping creatures returned to their slumber, Hari was forced to admit defeat.

"I'm sorry," he said, relaxing back into himself. "I can't."

Transparent tears welled in Myrtle's eyes, and she let out a great, lonely wail. Before Hari could say anything more, she dove through the door and Hari heard a distant _splash_.

Instinctively, he reached out to comfort her. If he couldn't help her with one thing, perhaps he could at least be a companion. He was well acquainted with loneliness, in all its facets, and knew how it felt to live alone among strangers who had nothing in common with you.

And that thought, that instinct for aid without any attempt at guiding thought, found her. Where a half hour of determined focus couldn't, a moment's reflexive desire succeeded.

 _You don't have to be alone_ , Hari's soul whispered to Myrtle's.

In that moment, a faint silver thread formed between them, binding them together. He felt her surprise, her gasp of startled shock.

Then she flew out of the bathroom, dripping with ghostly water, and hugged him with an unreal chill that made it just possible to imagine she had substance.

Which scene all the second-year Ravenclaw students walked in on. If he'd been younger, Hari might have cared. If Myrtle weren't floating with excitement at their new connection, she might have cared.

Yet though their 'secret romance' became a common topic of school gossip for the next several months, it didn't bother either of them one bit.

* * *

 _Author's Note : _

_This chapter really surprised me. It was super easy to write, came fast, and actually feels proper and complete. I wouldn't say it's necessarily the best chapter, but it's certainly one I'm most proud of in its initial state. Required very little finagling, a refreshing change from the dire struggle of the past several chapters._

 _I'll probably slow down on this project for a bit, I'm neglecting my other stories and need to get them some updates too. But don't worry, I'll definitely be back._


	17. Concerns

Master Kendricks was an excellent Defence teacher. Hari found his lessons detailed, precise, and well-referenced. Whenever he introduced a topic in class, he'd always back it with at least two sources which could be referred to when doing homework - of which there was a lot. More than any other class. Many students complained about this, but Hari never shied from study. He greatly enjoyed diving deeper into magical protection, even if for the moment it remained theoretical.

He did find himself on the receiving end of more than a few considering, displeased, or outright suspicious looks as the months went on and he still failed to produce any magic. Hari put extra effort into his Defence essays, trying to make up for the lack of practical skill, but this did nothing to avert Master Kendricks' suspicion.

Still, his classes provided an intellectual challenge in ways the other subjects did not. Master Kendricks' heavy reliance on cross-referencing and deduction proved a welcome change from the more straightforward 'wave wand like this, say word like this' of the majority of classes.

His next favourite subjects were History, during which he could see the improvement in Master Binns, and Herbology. Aside from his head-of-house being a kindly if brisk woman, the greenhouses were vibrant with the Force.

He hadn't been able to yet determine which plants were and were not connected to the blanket of smothering, stagnant power that they constantly created, but if there were a pattern he determined to find it. He filled parchments with his observations, taking notes and sketching the unfamiliar magical plants.

* * *

"I'm concerned, Hari," Madame Sprout said. She'd held him back after class for a private word. "You haven't cast a single spell since your arrival here, to my knowledge. Are you having trouble with your wand?"

"Yes. It's. . . unfinished. Not quite right." He gave the offending stick a flick in demonstration, and nothing happened.

"Do you mind if I try it?"

Hari handed it over with a shrug. "Go ahead."

Madame Sprout gave the wand a flick. Golden light flared to life at its tip. She frowned at it, extinguishing the light with another twitch, then produced an ornate candelabra with another wave.

"It seems to be functioning perfectly." She handed it back, still frowning. "You've never used a spell successfully?"

Hari shook his head. "Are you absolutely certain I'm actually magical? I have. . . different abilities, which could at first be mistaken for magic, but may not really be the same."

"There is no doubt. Your name's been down since birth. Perhaps your magic is taking longer to manifest than usual; it's not unheard-of. Nearly every witch or wizard will have the capacity to control their magic by age eleven, but there have been rare cases where it took months or years more. I'm sure that's all. Keep trying, and it'll come eventually."

Hari nodded, but he didn't hold out much hope. He was beginning to think that Force and magic were in direct opposition. And if he had to choose between them, the Force would win every time.

What could magic do that the Force couldn't? Nothing real. Only physical alterations to reality. The Force was so much deeper and broader than that. Its ability to reshape the physical world was only the merest sliver of its true power.

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"I don't really mind. I'm mainly here because any place of learning is preferable to my relatives' house. They do not care about knowledge nor treasure it as it should be. So long as I am able to remain and study, it doesn't matter if I'm unable to cast spells for a month or a century."

Madame Sprout looked taken aback. "Surely, Hari, you don't mean that? You'll be limited to a fraction of the classes, and probably set back years."

"I have time. Years mean little in the long term. As long as I continue to learn and progress toward my own goals, I can be patient."

"I see. You mentioned having other abilities than magic?"

"Yes. I can duplicate a lot of wand-based spells with my Force powers, though not all."

"Care to demonstrate?"

Hari lifted the wand from his hand with the Force, the wood humming and vibrating in his mind as its phoenix-fire heart echoed the empty Force's pleas back to him. _Make it right. Make everything whole again._

He held it mid-air for a moment, then set it back down on his open palm.

"Fascinating. I must say, I'm glad you're handling the situation calmly. Far too many children in your place would be having a fit."

Hari smiled faintly. "I can't say I know of anyone else having ever been in my place."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. You have always been unique. I just never knew quite how much."

He smiled a bit at that, but didn't reply. _And you still don't._

"If you ever want someone to talk to, you should know by now that my office is always open to any of my students," Madame Sprout continued. "Please don't hesitate to drop by."

* * *

"Is something the matter?" Nereva asked, when Hari returned to the common room. "Why did Professor Sprout keep you back?"

Hari shook his head. "Just more of the same, worried about my wand not working."

"Your wand doesn't work?!"

The room seemed suddenly quieter, as though everyone were listening. Hari gestured for Nereva to lower her volume, but quite a few people were staring at him now.

"It's not like _that_ ," Hari insisted. "It's not really a priority for me."

"How can doing magic not be a priority? This is a _school of magic!_ "

"Education is a requirement at this age. I'm fulfilling the requirement. That's all."

Nereva gaped at him. "But. . . but, Hari, you're _brilliant_. How can you not care?"

"I have bigger priorities than gaining more personal power, though I'll admit that your magic is an extremely interesting subject to study."

"Magic isn't about _power_ ," said an older student from a nearby table, no longer even pretending to mind his own business. "It's like . . . like reading. Just something you have to know in order to do so much more. Without magic, just think of all the time you'd end up wasting with busywork. Walking from place to place, cleaning things by hand - you'd have no time left to devote to actual priorities without magic to take care of all that everyday stuff! You'd spend half your day in pointless drudgery."

Hari considered a moment before replying. "None of the magic we've been studying has such applications."

"Of course not yet, you've only started. You need to know how to make things move before you can make them do specific motions. And you need to learn how to attach spells to items before they can do it without you directing them."

"It seems a little sad." Performing simple and repetitive tasks often helped Hari to slow down, gave him time to consider whatever matters were otherwise demanding his time. In the simplicity of tidying his sleeping quarters, of preparing his meals, of walking down a hall. If magic took it all away, what would replace it?

The older student clearly disagreed. "That you can't do advanced magic without learning the basics first? Yeah, real tragic."

"No, sad that magic would eliminate so much of daily routine. Isn't there satisfaction in maintaining a clean space, in preparing meals, in walking from place to place?"

"Are you serious? It's _sad_ that we can save hours and hours wasted effort with a quick spell? It only seems strange to you because you grew up with muggles. Trust me, as soon as you see how much easier magic can make your life, you'll never want to go back."

"Leave Hari be, Malcolm." Gabriel, the 6th year prefect, put his hand on the other boy's shoulder. "Not everyone believes the same as you. You don't have to argue about everything."

"But he's _wrong_ ," Malcolm protested. "Magic is the most basic, useful, versatile thing ever, and he's just. . . satisfied with it not working for him because he'd rather clean by hand? That's insane!"

Gabriel looked at him sternly until Malcolm deflated. "You interrupted his conversation in order to interject your own opinions. That's very rude."

"It's alright," Hari said. "I enjoy discussions with those who hold strong opinions, even if they don't align with my own."

The girl sitting beside Malcolm sniggered into her hand. Hari thought he heard her mutter something about Ravenclaw, but couldn't quite make it out.

"Nevertheless, Malcolm needs to learn not to interrupt. If you wanted to discuss something with Hari, you can approach him any time he's not already busy. You don't need to jump in—"

"But he would have moved on to other topics," said Malcolm. "It was clearly the correct time to interject."

"It's fine, really," Hari said.

"See? It's fine."

Gabriel sighed, but backed off. "Don't ignore your homework," he said by way of parting, then walked away.

"As if." Malcolm grinned. "So, where were we?"

* * *

As the fall term neared its end, Hari received ever more visits or private asides from teachers expressing their concern over his continued inability to cast spells.

They had varying degrees of sympathy, always cited his excellent bookwork, and asked if there was anything they could do to help. Since he was both moving his wand and speaking the words perfectly sufficiently, they generally concluded that they could not, in fact, provide him any assistance.

The last of these was Master Kendricks, the Defence professor. He took Hari aside on the final day of term and insisted that Hari recite several passages from both the Defence texts, asking him to cross-reference them to bring their meaning out clearly, and seemed surprised when Hari managed to do so with perfect ease.

"I'd become convinced you must have been cheating," he said, making a notation on his noteparchment. "No one with such an excellent understanding of the theory could possibly be this hopeless in practicals."

"I am a unique circumstance," Hari answered. "I've accepted it. I don't need to cast spells to be content."

Master Kendricks stood still a moment, staring off into nothing, then nodded sharply. "Mr. Potter, you have a bit too much serenity. I hate to say this to the most mature child I've ever taught, but it seems you are actually too responsible. Do you know why magic tends to come out at this age? Of course not. But whatever happened to make you so much more advanced in certain areas than your peers is also what is crippling you practically. What do you want, Mr. Potter?"

"At the risk of sounding extravagant and unrealistic, I want balance in the universe."

"Exactly the sort of high-minded nonsense that will _not_ help you progress with your lessons. Do you want to cast spells? Have you ever really desired to succeed here?"

"Once or twice. Your initial demonstration was quite inspiring."

"And yet even that is insufficient." Master Kendricks sighed. "You've been spending too much time with Binns and Flamel. They're far too old to remember what it's like to be young, and I fear you'll stifle your potential completely if you continue on as you have been."

"I'm learning quite a lot from them," Hari protested.

"Yes, but learning and doing are not the same thing. Not in the slightest. You can learn all you want, but if you can't actually make a single spark when the moment demands it, what's the use of it all? You may be able to slide by first term without casting a single spell, but you certainly won't be able to graduate at year's end. Do you want to remain a first year for years, only to be expelled without a wand at the end?"

"I don't see why that would be a problem. I don't need magic. It would be nice to have, but-"

"THAT is exactly your problem! You can't accept mundanity and expect your magic to work right. Let me see your wand."

Hari held it out. Master Kendricks took it and examined it, eyes almost closed as he squinted over his rectangular spectacles.

"Phoenix," he said, almost like a curse. He handed it back. "There are wands which would accept your lackluster attempts, but this is a particularly stubborn wand. I would say you were poorly matched, but it seems utterly determined to have you. What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not waiting-"

"No, the wand. It wants something from you, more than just words and understanding." Master Kendricks fell silent a long moment, then shook his head. "I don't know. Wandlore is not my area of expertise. Perhaps Marianna could help you."

"Marianna?"

"My wife, she teaches Muggle Studies. As a first year, you wouldn't be up to her classes yet, but she has rather more eclectic tastes than I. I believe she's mentioned wandlore in the past."

He scribbled out a note, passed it to Hari, and told him where to find Marianna Kendricks.

"Show her your wand, ask her if she can tell what it's waiting for. And if she does, go find it. You know everything you need, Hari, but you have to try harder."

Hari meant to follow his suggestion, but when he ventured to her office she wasn't there. He tried a second time later that day, but when his knock went unanswered again, he decided he wasn't

He wasn't exaggerating when he said magic wasn't his priority. If his wand wanted to be stubborn, he could wait it out.

He slipped the note into his bag, and there it waited.

* * *

 _Author's Notes_ _:_

 _You would not believe how hard this chapter was to write. I've been struggling for weeks, one grueling sentence at a time, and I'm really not convinced it couldn't have been done (much) better. But I believe, as usual, better something than nothing. And I'm tired of staring at it, so here it is._

 _Story-wise, we're slowly getting closer to where I consider the 'beginning' of this story; the initial arcs are beginning to be set up (if some more clearly than others, and some perhaps a bit overly belaboured) and the characters are roughly where I want them before things start moving._ _Characterization remains thin - I'm very bad at this, as you can probably guess by now - but I'm trying to give the various side characters more screen time._

 _That's one disadvantage to straying this far from canon; there's no safety net of built-in assumptions and expectations. I've got to put in the work myself, and it's not as easy as it sounds. I can put on paper, 'Malcolm is argumentative and convinced he's always right; Professor Kendricks is stern and passionate about his subject' but actually conveying that through the story is a constant struggle._

 _ _Thank you all for your patience. I only wish I could promise that I wouldn't continue to require it so regularly.__


	18. Holidays

Hari sat by a window in the Hufflepuff common room and stared out at the grounds. It wasn't an actual window, due to Hufflepuff's common room being underground, but an enchanted one worked just as well for looking out of.

He'd begun to feel dissatisfied in the past days, perhaps weeks, possibly months. It built up slowly, so gradually he'd not even noticed. But as Christmas approached and everyone began talking of their friends and families and plans for what to do and where to go on the holidays, Hari felt more isolated than ever.

He missed his friends and companions from his former life, even when specific details about them evaded his memory. He knew the feel of them, the bond they'd shared. He was beginning to fear he'd never find anyone to replace them.

Hari absently stroked Sev's golden fur, forcing his thoughts away from his cat's Bothan namesake. The kitten had grown significantly in the past months, though his playful nature remained undimmed. He had taken to batting at the robes of anyone walking by, which sometimes (often) led to his claws becoming entangled and his being dragged along behind his intended prey. For the moment, though, he seemed content to sit on Hari's lap and soak up the faint winter sunlight while it was available.

Hari felt too old to properly bond with those his physical age, while his appearance of youth was a serious barrier to any equal relationship with those he'd consider peers.

Master Flamel and Master Binns were the closest thing he had to true friends, but they had their own lives and ambitions which he was loath to infringe upon.

He recognized the familiar beginnings of melancholy and pushed his mind closer to meditation. He tried to release his emotion and concerns, but peace eluded him. The Force here carried such urgency, such heaviness, he had to resist the instinct to reach out to it. It wouldn't be any help.

Just as all free people of the galaxy relied on the Jedi, the Jedi could always lean on the Force and on each other. That was balance. Life created the Force, which guided the Jedi, who protected all life. The endless cycle.

But here, humanity stood alone. Here, he could rely only on himself. He was the only Jedi, the only one who could return the Force to what it should be. And right now, that was just another burden.

Sev clawed his way up Hari's chest, butting his face against Hari's throat and purring loudly. Hari blinked and stared down into the brilliant eyes of his cat, following the gold-bright thread that connected them, and allowed the cat's lively enthusiasm to overlay his own thoughts.

It helped, but Hari couldn't stop himself wishing for more.

* * *

"What's it like, being dead?"

Myrtle blushed, turning to hide her face behind her hair. "Considering joining me, Hari?"

"Not exactly. I think I died once already, or something very near to it. I'm sure it's different for everyone."

"You seem very alive to me," Myrtle said, drifting closer to him, her eyes closing.

"Doesn't everyone seem alive to you?"

Myrtle giggled. "Not as much as you do."

Hari wasn't sure how to react to that. "But what's it _like_?"

"Better now. For a long time it was very empty and lonely. A lot like living, but without temperature or food or sleep."

"But you could still think? Act? Be yourself?"

"Oh yes. I haunted Olive Hornby for years. That was incredibly satisfying. After she ruined my life, I saw to it that hers was just as miserable."

Hari wasn't sure he liked the glee in Myrtle's voice. "But you eventually forgave her and moved on. Right?"

Myrtle pouted. "No. She went to the Ministry and had me banished. So I came back here." Her smile reappeared, wider than before. " _You_ could haunt her for me!"

"No. No, I'm not in the business of wreaking vengeance." Hari took a slow breath. "Myrtle, I think you need to let it go."

"No! If she hadn't been teasing me I wouldn't have died. She _killed_ me, Hari. She ruined my life and killed me before I ever had a chance to live! Do you know what that felt like, Hari? I came to Hogwarts, the greatest school of magic, but _Olive_ already had her claws into the whole class from day one. No one would go against her, no one would stand up for me, they just giggled and pointed and _laughed_. No one helped me, Hari. No one for so long, so very long. I don't even know how long I've been here alone. And it's ALL HER FAULT!"

Myrtle swooped across the room with a shriek, splashing into an overflowing sink and vanishing from sight. Hari stood alone, watching the ripples settle. He felt cold anger, deep and strong and heavy, suffusing the silver-white thread of his connection to Myrtle. Beneath the lonely girl who just wanted a friend lurked something far darker.

"It's alright, Myrtle. I understand your anger and pain, but I need you to understand something too."

He focused himself, emanating calmness and strength and the feeling of being part of something bigger and more important than yourself. And he waited.

Slowly, shoulder tilted and chin set defiantly, Myrtle drew herself up from the floor drain.

"I can't forgive her, Hari. Not even for you."

"I'm not asking you to do that. Not yet. But think about something for me. Olive isn't here. She's gone. She's living her life - or perhaps already died. And you're still here. Still trapped in the memory of a handful of years."

"I hope she _is_ dead," Myrtle hissed.

Hari felt her anger surging against his calm, trying to shatter it and drag him in.

"Myrtle. Listen to me. That's done. Over with. Holding onto the past doesn't help anything, it only destroys your future. Think. If you'd forgotten about Olive, wouldn't you be happier?"

"No," Myrtle said stubbornly. She crossed her transparent arms. "I'm only _here_ because I was so determined to haunt her. Otherwise—" a brief flicker of fear, or uncertainty, showed on her face. "She made me what I am. If you don't like it, go yell at her for me."

"I don't want to yell at anyone. I want you to be happier."

"I'd be happier if you yelled at Olive Hornby," Myrtle said, her smile back. The dark icy fury in her heart surged and rippled.

"Nothing you say will persuade me to do anything to Olive Hornby," Hari said firmly. "This is about you. Not her."

"It's ALL about her!" Myrtle shrieked. "Everything I am is because of HER! If you don't like it, it's only because SHE made me like this! You have no idea what it's like. You've always been a hero, always been praised, always been _special_. But I was just the ugly fat girl with ugly fat glasses, the Ravenclaw who was slowest and dumbest at everything. And I'm not stupid! They all helped each other. They're just horrible selfish people who never gave me a chance. And it's all Olive's doing!"

"Calm down!" Hari snapped, anger seeping into him despite his attempts to stay calm. "I don't want to hear another word about Olive Hornby!"

Myrtle recoiled, startled. They stared at each other, Hari breathing fast, Myrtle looking betrayed. Then, before Hari could gather himself and defuse the situation, she spun away and dove furiously into the nearest toilet bowl. It flushed, and she was gone.

"Myrtle. . . I'm sorry," Hari called. "I shouldn't have shouted at you."

He waited, but she didn't reappear. He sensed her simmering rage, a feeling of betrayal. And underneath it all, swirling up to drown her, a heartbreaking pool of self-loathing whispered, _it was only a matter of time. Of course he doesn't care about you_.

Hari felt tears in his eyes. He reached out along their tenuous connection, offering reassurance, trying to push down the darkness twisting and coiling in Myrtle's heart. But her anger was too strong, her self-loathing too deep. In that moment, her emotions running rampant, he couldn't reach her.

He had to remind himself to stay calm. This wasn't insurmountable. She was fickle and emotional, but she'd calm down. She'd come back.

But she was stubborn. If she'd really made up her mind to avoid him, he wasn't sure he'd be able to catch her.

"I'm not going to leave you," he shouted. "I'm still here for you. Please come back. I won't yell at you again."

His voice echoed off the high walls and the ceiling and came back to him empty.

Myrtle didn't return.

* * *

The castle felt empty without its students. Even if Hari couldn't feel them in the Force, there was still an almost tangible absence that lurked down empty corridors and abandoned classrooms.

He wasn't the only Hufflepuff to remain behind, but all of his acquaintances had been among those to depart for the holiday.

Even Master Binns, who Hari had expected to remain year-round, had gone off to his family estates in the south.

"He always does that, every year," explained a Ravenclaw prefect when he found Hari searching. "Even though his old home is long gone, he still goes home to 'study and retrieve new material'. Never comes back with anything though."

* * *

"Do you know anything about reincarnation?" Hari asked.

Master Flamel shook his head. "Though wizards have studied life and death - or, rather, I should say have _attempted_ to study them - no satisfactory conclusion has been reached as to what exactly happens upon a wizard's death. We know only that there is a choice, to leave or to linger on. Ghosts who choose to stay forfeit forever their chance to continue on to whatever awaits beyond."

"Have you ever heard of people claiming to be reincarnated? From other worlds, perhaps?"

Master Flamel gave Hari a curious look. "We know of no other worlds. But, yes, of course there are stories. People will say the most unusual things. The problem is telling the truth from the exaggeration. It took me nearly a hundred years to discern the formulae for the Philosopher's Stone from all the nonsense and drivel that had grown up around the facts."

"What about people traveling to another world for a period of time, then returning to their original body?"

"I have read some muggle fiction with that premise, but never found it suggested as a serious reality. The most recent examples I recall with something of that nature would be Narnia or Barsoom."

Hari made a mental note of the two series. His unfamiliarity with Earth culture was shrinking, but five months of study couldn't come close to replicating the absorbed knowledge of an entire childhood. Even if he could have spent every moment doing nothing but reading, it wouldn't have been sufficient.

"Is this something you believe is possible, though?" Hari pressed. "Or is it completely absurd to even consider?"

"Forgive me, but you seem quite fixated on this. Do you believe yourself to have traveled somewhere else?"

Hari felt his embarrassment creeping up his face. "Yes. I remember. . . not the entirety of it, but pieces. Real, true pieces. I can do things no other wizard can, without a wand. I have intimate acquaintance with an energy field different from that you all access. I remember the flash of green light that I now know to be Voldemort killing my parents. I always did have negative associations with the colour green, growing up thereafter. But it was on another world, in a far distant section of the galaxy - or perhaps another galaxy entirely. I lived, a full lifetime, and when I thought I was dying instead I landed here."

Master Flamel tapped one finger against his lips in thought, regarding Hari with considerably more interest than usual.

"I can prove some of it, but. . . for the rest, I don't know where Earth is in relation to where I grew up. I know none of the stars, the planets are foreign to me. It's a long, long way."

"Would you mind doing so?"

Hari brought out his wand, laid it on the ground before him, and reached out to the Force. It slammed into him eagerly. Lifting and twirling the wand was a simple matter, as was pushing himself into the air.

"If I'm not mistaken, levitating oneself is considered impossible," Hari pointed out as he held himself a good two feet off the ground.

"Indeed," Master Flamel said thoughtfully. "It has long been one of magic's unsolvable conundrums. The inexplicable exception to many systems which would otherwise explain our powers."

Hari let himself fall. "Whatever magic is, it's different from the Force. It eludes me, while the Force reaches to me eagerly."

"This does explain a great deal." Master Flamel said, then fell silent a long moment.

"I don't know who I am any longer, or where I belong." Hari didn't realize what he was going to say until after he'd spoken.

"I'd imagine not."

"Part of me feels like I'm a padawan again," Hari said. Speaking the words aloud relieved a pressure he hadn't known was building within him. "Part of me feels I should be directing Jedi affairs, meditating, studying. And part of me-" his voice wavered, treacherous young emotions nearly overwhelming him.

"It's alright," Master Flamel said softly.

"Partly I just feel so alone." Hari shivered. "I'm too old and too young at once. The Force is empty here, power without purpose, and I'm so used to having it guide me. Here, it just waits for _me_ to decide its path. I know it's the same power, I can feel the way it's generated by life and the way it collects, it's the same. But it's separate. Cut off. Wrong. I'm the only one connected to it, so no one else is connected to me."

 _And those that are, I can't be any help to._

Hari laughed weakly. "Does that even make sense? I used to be able to sense everyone, everything. Here, it's so flat and lifeless. I miss the Temple, I miss my friends. So much."

He stared down at the wand, held in the air just before his eyes. It wanted something, waited for him. The Force wanted something, the Force waited. It felt like everyone and everything was just waiting, wanting what he didn't know how to give.

Master Flamel gently placed a hand on Hari's shoulder. "You shouldn't concern yourself so much with the fates of worlds and peoples and powers. Trust me, that kind of responsibility is heavier than anyone can bear alone. Let it wait for you. There is nothing you can do now, so let it be. Do what you can, and don't put too much concern into what you can't yet."

Hari sighed. "I feel like I'm letting everyone down. My teachers want me to learn magic. Repairing the Force is a lifetime's work by itself. And that's not even considering that as a Jedi it should be my job to mediate disputes and help guide this splintered world to lasting peace."

At that Master Flamel laughed aloud. Uproariously.

"Ah, my young friend, if you think any world can be led to lasting peace, you do not understand much of humanity. If every current conflict were resolved, we would simply find new ones within the week."

"Is it hopeless, then?"

But no. The Force would help. It would draw peoples back toward balance, it would mediate even without active Jedi to support it. It wouldn't create perfect harmony, but the presence of the active living Force on the planet would do at least something to calm its most dangerous spikes. He just had to figure out how to bring it back properly.

Master Flamel's voice gently drew Hari out of his thoughts."Nothing is hopeless, Hari," he said quietly. "Trust me. If there's one thing I've learned in my many centuries of life, it's that we can do nearly anything we set our hearts to."


End file.
